


Hogwarts Mystery - Novelization | The Curse Breaker | Year 6

by Ethren



Series: Hogwarts Mystery | Novelization [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hogwarts Mystery
Genre: A lot of canon divergence to make more sense for Ethren, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Year 6 rewrite, a bit darker as well, swearing and cursing warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-06-28 16:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19816306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ethren/pseuds/Ethren
Summary: Ethren Whitecross enters into his sixth year at Hogwarts, but things couldn't be worse. Jacob Whitecross has been freed from his imprisonment but has vanished once again, Patricia Rakepick still walks the earth after nearly torturing his girlfriend to death and the weight of the curse that threatens to take his life grows heavier on his shoulders. And with one Cursed Vault left, it's now a race to see who can get to it first, all while the sinister forces of R close in around Hogwarts....





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The art down below was a surprise gift from the lovely THECURSEDVAULTCHILD on tumblr.  
> The cover image is from ZuulosDovah on tumblr.  
> I know technically I'm still on Year 1 in the series but I got impatient and wanted to skip to year 6. I'll be writing Year 5 during nanowrimo.

Everything was going to change. 

That’s what he said last year, before he spoke with Mad Eye. And as he stepped into the Great Hall, the night of September First along with a swarm of students, it couldn’t be more true. The same kids. The same teachers, save for one, of course. The same hall, the same smell of food. But it was just...... difference. A darker ambience. A fear that had swept over the students as they whispered to one another. Which Vault was going to be opened next. 

He could feel eyes on him as he made his way through the room. Students glanced over, their conversations halting as the Curse Breaker swept through. Eyes of pity, of suspicion, of admiration. He didn’t care. 

He sat down next to Charlie and Jae at the Gryffindor table. The ginger was absolutely beaming, in the middle of talking to Rowan as Ethren took his seat. “-probably going to be sorted into Gryffindor, like the rest of us. I’m beginning to guess that we’re a strictly Gryffindor family, which is all right with me.”

“You think who’s going to be sorted into Gryffindor?” Ethren asked and Charlie glanced over. 

“My brothers! Fred and George.”

“Oh great. Don’t tell me they’re like Percy.”

Charlie immediately busts into laughter, dropping his hand down onto Ethern’s shoulder. “Don’t worry about that. They’re the polar opposites of Percy.... They could give even Bilton Bilmes a run for his money.” Charlie was smiling. He seemed to be holding up well after the Cursed Vault. But Ethren could see the shadows under his eyes, and the smile that didn’t quite meet them. 

They’d all suffered. And speaking of.... Ethren glanced around. “....have you seen Ben?”

Jae shook his head, stacking galleons he’d made over the summer lazily. “Nope. Not since we got to Hogwarts.”

That was concerning. Ethren sat back, feeling a knot of guilt in his stomach. Ben must still be on this mission to be braver. So why was he still hiding from his friends.

The chatter died down as McGonogall stepped forward with the hat. It sang its song, the students clapping half heartedly as it came to an end - and then the sorting began. He could practically feel Charlie’s excitement as he leaned forward. 

Roger Davies, sorted into Ravenclaw. The Ravenclaw girls, who had all swooned over his older brother, Chester, immediately cheered as the little boy hopped off the stool and over towards his table.

Cedric Diggoy, sorted into Hufflepuff. Ethren glanced around the crowd of people to get a look at him. He remembered meeting his father all those years ago. 

Lee Jordan, sorted into Gryffindor. Adrian Pucey, sorted into Slytherin. Patricia Stimpson, sorted into Ravenclaw....

“ _Weasley, Fred!”_

Charlie’s eyes followed the red haired kid as he practically bounded forwards towards the stool. He looked nervous. Charlie chuckled, leaning over to Ethren. “I told them that they had to fight a troll to be sorted...”

“That’s just evil, Charlie.”

The little boy sat down on the stool, squeezing his eyes shut. The sorting wasn’t immediate. The hat seemed to be tilting between two choices before it finally shouted out, _GRYFFINDOR!_

George Weasley was sorted into the same and soon........

Ethren was flanked between two eleven year olds, who were watching him, wide eyed. 

“ _Are you a curse breaker?”_ George asked, wide eyed. Or was it Fred? Ethren honestly wasn’t sure.

“Uh.... yeah, I guess, but not officia-”

“Did you really fight a _dragon?”_ Fred asked from his other side - or was it George?

“Yeah, but it wasn’t eas-”

“Did you _die?”_

They squeaked as Charlie snatched them by their ears, the older brother smirking fondly. “How about we stop annoying my friend, that sound good?” he asks, releasing them and they scowled, rubbing their ears. 

“Fine,” Fred whined. “Hey, Ethren, wanna eat this sweet?” He produced a red candy and Ethren, always with a sweet tooth, shrugged, mind still reeling from the onslaught of questions. 

“Sure, why not.”

He moved to grab it - when Charlie plucked it out of his fingers, frowning at Fred.

“What’d you put in it.”

“Nothing!” The boy bats his eyes innocently. 

“Yeah? Why don’t _you_ eat it then.”

Fred and George glanced to one another, George smiling sweetly. “But we wanted to give it to _Ethren._ ” 

“Nope. You eat it first. Just a nibble.”

Reluctantly, the twins took a bite of the candy, swallowing it like they just ate cabbage. 

“See?” Fred said with a smile. “Nothing - _hiccup! -_ bad - _hiccup! -_ happened!”

“Nothing - _hiccup -_ bad at all!”

Charlie snorted. “That’s what you two get,” he said with a grin. “Never trust what they give you, Ethren. These two are imps.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Everyone quieted down as Dumbledore came forward after the end of the sorting. Was it Ethren’s imagination, or did he look more weary than normal. “Students of Hogwarts,” he says, frail voice carrying throughout the hall. “Your attention, please. It gives me great pleasure to welcome you to the start of a new year at Hogwarts.” Fred and George were bouncing in their seats, hand-me-down hats falling in their faces. “"With a new school year comes new opportunities to further your studies, to develop new friendships, to grow was young wizards and witches. And to apply difficult lessons learned in the past to build a brighter future." 

The man’s face seemed to fall. “In recent years, we’ve been through some trying times.”

“Understatement of the year on day one, that must be a record,” Jae snorted, not glancing up from counting coins.

“But Hogwarts remains an institute dedicated to learning. It is our obligation to uphold and defend this high purpose. And there is no place here for those who seek to threaten it. And so, Professor Rakepick will no longer be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Rakepick.

The very name had Ethren’s chest clenching, tearing his eyes away from Dumbledore. He looked across the table, catching Charlie’s eye. The same, haunted look passed between them as Dumbledore continued speaking. 

"And all are urged to let the proper authorities deal with her and the Cursed Vaults."

Something about that had Ethren looking up again. A chill ran down his spine. He could have sworn Dumbledore was looking right at him. 

“I’m pretty sure he’s talking to you,” Rowan whispered from next to Charlie and Ethren flushed. 

“Probably,” he whispered back. 

“Your priority should be your lessons and preparing for your wizarding careers,” Dumbledore said. “Our staff is here to support you in those efforts. Do not hesitate to ask for help. Now it is time to enjoy each other's company and this magnificent Welcome Feast." 

And with a wave of his hand - food materialized on the tables. 

The students began to dig in, chatting excitedly. 

Ethren wasn’t hungry. He tore up from his seat, marching across the room towards the back of the Great Hall where a couple of the older students were gathered, chatting rather than eating. Talbott, Chiara, Tonks. 

Chiara and Talbott.... Were they holding hands?

They all saw Ethren as he approached, smiling. “Ethren!” Tonks said, rushing to hug him. 

“Tonks.” He looked over her shoulder at Talbott and Chiara, arching a brow and glanced up. “Are you two.... Together?”

The girl and boy’s hands disconnected quicker than lightning, red blushes oozing onto their cheeks. “Well, I- we, Talbott visited over the summer,” Chiara said with a shy smile, tucking strands of white hair behind her ear. 

“Sounds like you two had a blast.”

“What about you?” Talbott asked, his sharp eyes landing on his friend almost immediately. “We didn’t see much of you after you were uh... taken before Bill’s graduation.”

“Kidnapped,” Chiara said. “He was basically kidnapped.”

“Either way.... How was your summer?”

His summer.... His summer had consisted of nothing but training. Hours outside until the dark, sending spell after spell against the dummies he’d had his father buy. Avoiding his parents at all cost as Elden continued to cheat muggles out of their money and his mother and her waning sanity. “It was fine.”

“And speaking of your kidnapping,” Tonks said with a grin, throwing her arm around Ethren’s shoulders and he grimaced, glaring up at her. “What did you and Mad Eye even talk about?”

“I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

“You know who that was though, right?! Alastor Moody!”

Talbott snorted. “He was kidnapped by the bloke for four hours. I’m pretty sure he knows who he is.”

"He was a hero of the Wizarding War." Tonks was practically bouncing on her heels now, her eyes wide and adoring. "He's responsible for sending countless Death Eaters to Azkaban." 

“He’s impressive,” Talbott agreed without a hint of sarcasm.

“I’m guessing you’re both fans,” Ethren said, plucking a cherry up from the nearby Slytherin table, a first year scowling at him. 

“Anyone who’s ever thought of becoming an auror would be a fan of Mad-Eye!” Tonks said. 

Ethren knew that Talbott’s ambition, if a bit more quiet than Tonks, was also to become an auror and he gave as shrug. “It’s true. He’s.....really amazing. If a bit paranoid.”

“But, Ethren...” Chiara was moving forward now, watching her friend carefully. “How are you...? I know the end of the year for you was....hard..what’s been on your mind?”

“You mean aside from my girlfriend nearly getting tortured to death, my brother vanishing, being attacked by a dragon and getting kidnapped?” Ethren looked away. His eyes narrowed to slits, his jaw slid forward as he locked his vicious gaze on some poor, random student across the hall. “....Rakepick. I couldn’t stop thinking about what she did to us.... How she betrayed us....I did nothing but train, all summer, preparing for the next time we’ll meet her.”

“And if you do?” Chiara asks, tentatively, as if worried for the answer.

“I’ll kill her.” He looks up. His friends were watching him, pained looks in their eyes. “She can’t find the next fault,” he says firmly. “Whatever’s inside has to be... valuable and powerful. It can’t fall into the wrong hands.”

“So... what’s the next step?” Talbott asked.

“Mad-Eye told me to meet me in the Common Room. At midnight. He’s going to talk to me....somehow.”

“That’s.... Not creepy at all.”

“I don’t like him much, but whatever he has to say, it’s got to be important. Until then...” He turns to Chiara. “Have you seen Ben?”

“Do you even have to ask?” Tonks says with a snort. “Check where he’s always hiding.... The Artefact Room.” 

He and Ben were never close. 

Even from their first year, they were never really friends. Ethren simply had far too much on his plate to worry about babysitting a boy who was scared of his own shadow. But he felt responsible for what happened down in the vault.... He was the one who allowed Ben to come with them.

This was his fault.

He pushed through the artefact door, glancing inside. “Ben?” His voice brushed the silence as he slid inside. It looked the same as always. Spiderwebs hung from the walls. Junk was cluttered in the corners, the squeak of a rat as one ran across the room....

And Ben. Ben stood in the middle, admiring a skull in his hands. Ethren arched a brow as he approached. “....you missed the Welcoming Ceremony.”

“I know. That stuff is for kids.”

“...but we are kids.” He glances down. “Why are you holding a skull.”

“What do you think I could get for it in Knockturn Alley?”

Ethren blinked. “Why would you want to trade a skull?” 

Ben glanced up from the skull. There were dark shadows under his eyes and he heaved a long sigh, leaning back against a cabinet. “You’re no help,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Maybe I’ll just ask Jae Kim....”

Ethren grit his teeth. Don't’ hex him, don’t hex him, don’t hex him. He stepped forward. “....you can’t just take it. It doesn’t belong to you, it belongs to the school.”

“You’re pretty hypocritical, only following school rules when it suits you.” Ben walked around Ethren now, tossing the skull from hand to hand. “Sure I can. Unless you’re going to stop me.”

Ethren’s eyes narrowed. “No. I won’t. If you want to get caught and go into detention, that’s your business.

“Maybe I’d like detention. You and Jae seemed to have fun making sandwiches.”

“Yeah, it was a blast, go for it.” Sarcasm drips from Ethren’s words like ice as he steps forward towards Ben. “What’s going on with you.”

“I already told you. After the horrors we faced last year, I’ve become stronger. I’m a new Ben.”

“Yeah, well New Ben is kind of a prick. Where’s Sicklesworth anyways? I thought you were his new owner.”

“I don’t care about him anymore. That niffler’s on his own.”

“...Ben.” Ethren’s heart twisted a bit as he rest his hand on Ben’s shoulder. “I know you’re trying to be brave. But there’s a difference between brave and just being plain reckless, and-”

Ethren’s hand was thrown off as Ben stepped backwards, a defiant look flashing in his eyes. “What would you know?” He demanded. “You’re reckless all the time. You’re reckless all the time and you’re _fine._ After the vault? Surviving it? I’m invincible.”

“What? No. Ben. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds? You can’t just fix yourself on a whim.”

“About as ridiculous as trying to end a blood malediction.”

Ethren’s breath caught in his throat. His fist curled and he took a threatening step forward, ears starting to ring. “....careful, Ben.” 

“Why should I?” Ben demanded, stepping forward. The boys were invading each other’s spaces. “You’re trying to change yourself for the better. You’re trying to save your own skin from your curse. Well _so am I._ I’m changing myself for the better, by not being a coward.”

“This isn’t the way to _do it,_ Ben!” Ethren snapped. “You aren’t being brave by going around being a git to everyone.”

“Well I’ve felt better than I have in ages. I’ve done things I”ve never done before! I tested the speed limits of my broom, I spent time around Borgin and Burkes. I’m actually living my life.”

“There’s a fine line between fearlessness and foolish-”

“Look, Ethren,” Ben seethes, folding his arms over his chest. “Maybe you should stop wasting your time on me, and spend more of it trying to find your fuck up of a bro-”

The words didn’t even leave Ben’s mouth before there was a sickening _crack!_ of Ethren’s fist slamming into his nose. 

It sent Ben reeling backwards, smashing against a couple boxes that clattered and crashed to the floor, looking up with blood dripping freely down his nose. He was slack jawed, eyes wide in shock.

Ethren’s chest heaved as he stood in the middle of the room, fingers still curled into a fist. He staggered backwards. His blood was rushing to his head. “Fine, then,” he hisses, voice cold with fury. “I won’t.” And without another word, tears out of the room and out into the hall.

He had to wait for all the Gryffindors to file out of the Common Room before Mad-Eye could show. And until then, he read. A stack of books was beside him and he downed a potion of Wideye as tiredness began to settle in, drawing the book into his lap. Maledictions and Family Bloodlines. He couldn’t even count how many times he’s read through the book but here he was, once again, hoping to find something between the lines. 

Time was running out. He had to find.... Something. After all, he couldn’t enact revenge on Rakepick if he was dead in a ditch somewhere. 

Fred and George had proved to be just as annoying as Charlie promised, running around the Common Room like a couple of tasmanian devils, finally getting scolded by Percy who sent them both to bed. And soon, it was just Ethren in the solitude of the Common Room. How was Mad-Eye going to show..? You can’t apparate into the Common Room. Was he just going to waltz in? He waited for a long time, pacing in front of the fire, the warmth spilling over the boy as he walked circles into the common room. 2 am. Maybe he should just go to sleep.

He turned towards the door.... When he heard a sound from the fireplace.

_Psst!_

Ethren jolted, spinning around. He looked about wildly. 

“ _Whitecross. Right here.”_

Ethren looked. And in the flames - a face was coming into view. The face of Mad-Eye moody.

Ethren dropped down to his knees before the flames, glancing over his shoulder towards the dormitories before looking back to the auror. “Mad-Eye. Couldn’t we have just talked at Hogsmeade.”

“No. Couldn’t risk you being followed. You weren't followed, were you?”

“I’m in my dorm. Who would follow me.” 

“Constant vigilance, Whitecross. Maintain constant vigilance. The information I gave you...you kept that a secret?”

“You swore me to it, remember. With a couple death threats, if I’m not mistaken. What do you want.”

“I wanted to talk to you about R.”

  1. Ethren’s mood immediately darkened, his fingers curling into the carpet under him. He’d done everything he could over the summer to look up ‘R.’ And yet he found nothing. He leaned forward. “Tell me everything.” 



“Are you alone.”

“Yes.”

“Check.” 

Ethren heaved a breath, looking behind him. All clear. He turned back to Mad-Eye. “There. Cleared. Now start talking.”

Mad-Eye sniffed, his eye whirring in the flames. “....R is not just a single person,” he says coolly. “R is the name of a dangerous, villainous syndicate of mages. I’ve been investigating their operations around the world.” 

Ethren leans back. “For so long, I thought that R was a single wizard, not a group of dark mages...I suppose there was clues...” He frowns. “My brother.... How much does he know about R? Is he in danger?”

“Your brother’s part in this is still unknown to me. I’ll be looking for him during my investigation.... As well as Rakepick.”

“Let me come with you.” Ethren’s demand was immediate. He could feel the heat of the flames as he leaned forward. “I have to find her.”

Mad-Eye snorted. “Feisty. No. I’ll be looking for Rakepick. But I’ll be teaching you how to better protect yourself, and seek you out with information that might prove to be useful.”

“So I’ll just be stuck at school?” Ethren hissed. “I know I’m not an accomplished auror, but I’ve broken curses. I’ve fought dragons, I’ve fought dark wizards. I can help you.” 

“Lad, I have my own plans for you. This is beyond petty revenge.” He cut Ethren off before he could retaliate. “The race to find the last Cursed Vault is on. Whatever's inside the vault is powerful. A cabal as villainous and dangerous as 'R' can't get to it first. And while Patricia Rakepick is only a minor player in 'R', she is still a major threat. She may not have unlocked the secrets of the Buried Vault but Rakepick has the resources of 'R' behind her.” His features turn grim. “There's a good chance Rakepick could be the first to find the final vault.”

“That can’t happen.”

“I agree. My understanding is, you have clues to the location of the next vault.”

So that’s what this was about. He thought about lying. The last thing he needed was some paranoid auror slowing him down. But knowing Mad-Eye, he’d just break in at some point and demand the information. “...a trident. And a coral key. So I’m guessing the next vault is underwater.”

Mad-Eye gave a thoughtful hum. “Underwater.....keep searching for it, Whitecross. I need to track down ’R.’” 

Ethren frowned. “....I kind of already have a lot on my plate. I need to find my brother....who’s trying to find Rakepick. Find Jax, find that bitch. It’s a win, win if you ask me.”

“"All roads lead to the Cursed Vault. Find the vault, I bet you'll find your brother, too. You, me, Rakepick, Jaxson...we're all after the same thing: getting to the Cursed Vault first." There was a sound from the fire - voices from behind Mad-Eye. The man spun around, was absolutely still for a moment and he turned back, his voice quieter. “I have to go. I’ll keep you posted on my findings, and imbue you with the skills and knowledge you’ll need to protect yourself.”

“Mad-Eye, no, wait!” Ethren shouted, but it was too late. The fire winked out. He was gone. Ethren growled, tearing to his feet, running his fingers anxiously through his hair. The one person who knew about R more than he did.... Gone. 

He needed some fresh air. 

After Ben and Mad-Eye, his fists were clamped into tender flesh as he made his way outside. He could feel anger pulsating through him like his very blood. Rakepick was still out there. Ben was being a massive prick. Mad-Eye was treating him just like some pawn in his game, just like Rakepick did. 

Who else was there left to trust? His ‘friends’ who split the moment he was kidnapped? He knew he had Talbott and Chiara, but they seemed like an item now. The last thing he wanted to do was bring them down with his problems. 

Outside on Hogwarts Grounds, a cool wind was blowing against his face. He could taste autumn in the air, a brisk breeze blowing through his clothes. He stopped, turning his face up towards the moon. 

...maybe he should just leave. Ditch, like Jaxson did and just... hunt her down. He could become a curse breaker on his own - no one would doubt his skills after he’s broken four curses over Hogwarts already.

The sound of spells had him twisting around, narrowing his eyes in the dark. He could see flashes of light by the forest edge. Fire, electricity, the burst of red and green spells striking the trees.

He drew his wand and approached carefully. 

When he got closer.... He dropped it, his heart clenching. Merula.

He hadn’t seen her since last year, in the infirmary....ignored all of his letters.... And yet here she was. She seemed.... Unhealthy. Her features gaunt. Her hair stringy. Her robes fell loose around her frame and with a snarl, a red spell blasted forward from her wand, blasting against a tree that erupted into flames. They rippled and danced against her pale features, another stream of three spells shooting off like gun shots against the trees. 

“I think you got them.” Merula spun around, a spell blasting from the tip of her wand in a panic. Ethren waved his wand quickly, conjuring a forcefield in front of himself and the dangerous hex deflected off, veering and striking another tree. Ethren scowled, dropping the shield. “The hell?!”

“Maybe you shouldn’t sneak up on me.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be so obvious with your venting.”

“I’m not venting. I’m training.”

“Yeah. I can tell.” 

Merula sneers, twisting around, readying another spell. “Spit it out, Whitecross. What do you want.” 

The air around them was so tense. Ethren sucked in a breath.... Then stepped forward tentatively, placing his wand back at his hip. “....I missed you over the summer. You didn’t return any of my owls. And you didn’t come to the Welcome Feast....we haven’t had a chance to catch up.”

Merula didn’t look over her shoulder. She grit her teeth, a hex blasting a tree into pieces. “So you want to chat with me,” she mutters coolly. “Want to know what _I_ want?” She lowered her wand, turning to him. “I want to _not_ chat with you.”

“Come on,” Ethren said. He approached, despite the claws Merula had unsheathed. “We haven’t talked since you were recovering in the Hospital Wing after, well....you know.” 

“After my mentor and role model and blah blah blah blasted me with the Cruciatus Curse and left us for dead?” Ice dripped from the girl’s words and Ethren flinched. 

“Yeah....that.”

“I told you I didn’t need you then, Whitecross. And I don’t need you now. You’ll just get in the way.”

“Get in the way of what?”

“Killing Rakepick.”

Silence dropped over them like a shadow. Ethren couldn’t breathe. He stared at his girlfriend who leveled him with a determined gaze. She was waiting for a response. Holding her breath. He opened his mouth to respond - and Merula swiftly cut him off, pacing around him. “Yeah, yeah. I know what you’re going to say. We should just send her to Azkaban!! We don’t need to kill her! Well to _hell_ to Azkaban, I say.”

She turns on him, lavender eyes flashing. “She hurt you. She hurt me. She hurt everyone we care about. Why should we just let her walk away with it!”

“Merula-”

“You have no idea what she’s done to me!” Merula was now gritting her teeth, pacing circles into the grass. Red tinted her eyes, her nails driving into her hands. “I can’t just get up and go to class every day like a good little witch planning her career. Not while Patricia Rakepick walks the earth. And if you’re going to stop me, then-”

_“Merula!”_

Ethren grabbed her wrist. She turned to him, glowering, ready to tear away and he tightened his grip. “I’m not going to stop you.”

Merula’s eyes were locked on his hand...then they tore up to his gaze, stunned. “....you’re not?”

“No. I’m with you.” He drew her closer. “...I spent all day thinking about her, Merula. What she did to us. The way she hurt you...I have nightmares of you, writhing on the ground, screaming. And Jaxson...” his jaw slid forward. “Jaxson’s disappearance tore my family apart. It made us a laughing stock....it hurt me, so bad. And she’s still out there. After betraying us....” he brought his eyes up. His lips curled back into a growl. “I’m going to kill her for what she did.” 

Merula surged forward. Lips pressed to his, her arms throwing around his shoulders and he blinked with surprise before drawing her closer, tilting his head. 

Nothing like plotting for murder to bring a struggling couple back together.

“Ethren? Merula? Is that you?”

They tore away, still grasping on to one another’s sleeves as Penny approached from the school, her wand lit up with lumos as she eyed them curiously. “What are you both doing out here..?”

Merula, clearly annoyed with being interrupted, sneered. “Perfect. Penny is gracing us with her presence.”

“You’re both out here alone....in the dark, casting spells and.. _”_ she flushes. “Snogging. I was curious.”

“You know, they say curiosity killed the cat, Penny.”

Penny’s lips twisted into a confused frown. “What’s going on?” she demanded, stepping forward. “Do you suddenly hate me?” 

“Don’t be conceited. I don’t hate _just_ you. You have good hair, but you’re not that special,” Merula says acidly with a roll of her eyes. 

“Ignore her, Penny,” Ethren mutters, pulling the girl behind him and out of sight. “Merula is in a....mood.”

Penny gave a hesitant nod and stepped forward. She was wringing her sleeves worriedly. “I was actually looking for you, Ethren....it’s about Beatrice.”

“Did she get herself stuck in a portrait again?” Merula says with a snort, and Penny shakes her head.

“No... this may be even worse.”


	2. Curses and Prophecies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The race to the last Cursd Vault may be on, but new troubles have students at Hogwarts scared stiff.

Ethren was wracking his brain all day while in History of Magic class. He could scarcely hear Professor Binns rambling about wandlore as he twirled his own across the table. ‘Worse,’ Penny had said. What could be worse than being stuck in a portrait for the entire school year? Was she sick? Struck by a new curse? No, that was impossible, the school year has only just begun....

“Your feathers are going to start falling out if you keep worrying.”

Ethren jolted and glanced over. Talbott wasn’t meeting his eyes as he sketched down notes on his scroll, but the edge of his thin lips were lifted up into a smirk. Ethren sighed, leaning back. “Is it wrong to just want a normal school year?” he asked and Talbott snorted. 

“Honestly, Ethren, at this point, I don’t think any of us even know what a normal school year is.” He set his quill down, reclining back next to Ethren. “Even if we  _ were _ graced with a ‘normal’ school year, something tells me you’d just look for trouble anyways.”

“Hey,” Ethren countered. “Trouble normally looks for  _ me. _ ”

“You’re an off and on relationship. I think you need a relationship counselor.” 

“Yeah, a  _ toxic _ relationship.” Ethren groaned, leaning forward and let his head thunk against the table tiredly. Over at his side, Rowan was absolutely riveted as he listened to Binns. Makes sense. His family lived on a farm that grew wood for wands...he was practically part of this history. He couldn’t think. Couldn’t focus...but he wouldn’t be able to help anyone if he was failing half his classes. Besides, after History of Magic, he had to meet Penny and Andre in the courtyard...with a sigh, he picked up his pen and got to work. 

It was a cool autumn afternoon when Ethren tugged his cloak tighter around his shoulders and stepped into the courtyard. It was lively - groups of friends were mulling about chatting, the explosions of a snap game echoing from one of the courtyard aisles. He caught sight of Penny and Andre over by the fountain, chatting quietly.

When Penny spotted Ethren approaching, there was immediate relief washing over her features. “Ethren!” She hugged him tight. “Good, you’re here...”

“What’s going on?” He asked as she drew away. “I thought we were finding Beatrice.”

“Beatrice  _ is  _ what’s going on,” Andre purred. “Check out this Courtyard Crew.” He motioned with his head and Ethren glanced over. 

And immediately burst into laughter. 

‘Worse’ Penny had said. Oh yeah, this was  _ definitely worse. _

Ismelda was stalking around in the shadows cast by one of the courtyard statues and beside her - Beatrice. She looked.... Different. Blonde hair had been parted and hung in her face just like Ismelda’s, and had donned on a gothic leather jacket and combat boots that came up almost to her knees, with tattered black stockings and fingerless gloves. 

“I don’t know,” Ethren said with a grin, glancing over to Penny. “I kind of like the new look.”

“ _ Ethren, _ ” she scolds, swatting his shoulder. She looked ready to cry. “This isn’t  _ just  _ about the new look. Beatrice...she’s said barely a word to me. I was hoping during the summer we could reconnect but she kept dodging me and now that we’re in school...”

“You’re afraid you’ll become so disconnected you won’t have anything in common anymore and your relationship would be severed forever?” Ethren guessed and Penny blinked.

“I....yes. But how did you...?”

“Consider me an expert on wayward siblings,” Ethren muttered, turning his teal gaze back over to Beatrice. 

“You know, I never really understood the ‘hair over the eye’ look,” Andre hums, sitting back on the rim of the fountain, eyeing the drama like it was a delicious tart. “It makes things hard to see.”

“Andre, this isn’t really much of a ‘crew,’ Ethren says and Andre snorts.

“Ismelda’s a loner. In this case, two makes a crew. What can I say? I like to people-watch.”

“Look,” Penny hissed. “Ismelda is just.... The last person I want Beatrice to be friends with. There are so many good and kind people at this school and Ismelda is...”

Ethren nods. Even Merula had gotten sick of the girl and her constant talk of the Unforgivable Curses. “Yeah. I get it. I guess I’ll...” he groans. “Go and talk to her.”

They waved him good luck as he strode over towards the girls. Damn it. He couldn’t stand kids. Even Penny’s sister. But he cared about Penny. So unfortunately, this little goth girl had worked her way into the circle of people that Ethren was to protect. 

“Well, well,” he purred, approaching. “Like the new look. You get a makeover this summer?” 

Ismelda and Beatrice looked up, the older girl scowling while Beatrice absolutely beamed. “Yup! You like it?”

“I think it’s very...” he hesitates. “..distinctive.”

“What do you want, Whitecross?” Ismelda sneered, leaning back against the wall. Smoke curled from a cigarette between her fingers and Ethren scoffed, waving his hand.

“Attractive, Ismelda,” Ethren quips, eyes flashing. “You pick that up with your death eater buddies?”

“What, does it offend you?” She exhaled a column of smoke into his face and he screwed up his nose, but didn’t take a step back. 

“Not at all. The second hand smoke is becoming of you - hides the stench,” he mutters, turning his attention to Beatrice now as Ismelda’s face reddened with rage. “Why are you hanging out with this one,” he says. 

Beatrice snorted - and to Ethren’s horror, reached over, plucking the cigarette from Ismelda popped it between her lips. “Oh no. Penny got to you,” she sighed.

He resisted the urge to rip it from her mouth. “I- got to me?”

“I know you're close friends with my sister, Ethren. I’m sure she’s told you how disappointed she is that I’m not walking around like a Mini-Penny anymore.” 

“She doesn’t care if you’re a Mini-Penny or not, Beatrice,” Ethren said. “She said you’d grown distant and had an interesting summer-” he was cut off as Ismelda takes a step forward - almost hiding Beatrice from his view.

“Why do you even  _ care _ , Whitecross?” she sneers, fingers curled into fists.

Ethren’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t, really,” he responds, looking over towards Beatrice. “She can smoke as many cigarettes as she wants and wear whatever she damn well chooses. But what I  _ do  _ care about is Penny, and Penny cares about Beatrice. So that makes Beatrice someone I need to protect.”

Ismelda gives a wolfish grin. “Caring so much must be exhausting, Whitecross.”

“I guess you wouldn’t know. The only person you care about is yourself.” He draws forward now to rest a hand on Beatrice’s shoulder. “Look, Bea,” he says, squeezing. “Your sister doesn’t care if you’re suddenly into leather or hang out with...questionable people,” he says. “I mean, she  _ cares,  _ but..” damn it, he was bad at this. He breathes. “She just misses you, I think. And she wants you to be happy, and safe....you should go see her..”

“Safe?” Beatrice hissed, suddenly puffing out like an angry kitten as she marched forward. Taken off guard, Ethren stumbled back a step, eyes wide. “No one is safe here. And I’m tired of everyone tailing me like I’m about to break -  _ including  _ my sister. I don’t have a problem, I’m not in danger, I’m just...trying something new. I wish everyone would just let me be.”

“You’d think students at a wizarding school would be more open minded,” Ismelda drawls. “Hear that? I think Beatrice wants you to go.”

Ethren’s cold eyes locked on to Ismelda, burrowing into her. “I’d really appreciate if you’d shut your mouth for a second,” he says, stepping forward towards Beatrice again. His features soften. “Look, kid. I’m not going to make you do anything. Just... if you need anyone to talk to..” he rubs the back of his neck. “...I have experience dealing with the curses at Hogwarts..and getting on with life afterwards.”

“Why are you still talking?” Ismelda barked. “Beatrice said to let her be. Go away.”

Ethren didn’t give the Slytherin the time of day. His eyes were on Beatrice, waiting for hesitance. He didn’t get any. She merely nodded in agreement with Ismelda and he shrugged. “All right. See you around, Beatrice.”

He stalked back towards Andre and Penny. Shey both sat up, Penny pulling on her braid anxiously. “Well?” she asked. “How’d it go?”

“I just decided I’m never having kids,” he mutters. 

Her features fell. “That bad?” 

“Ismelda practically hovers over that girl like a guard dog,” he says, glancing back towards Ismelda and Penny where the older girl was leading them away. “Get past Ismelda, we can get to Beatrice....and I think I know exactly who I should talk to about that.”

Andre smirked. “Does his name happens to rhyme with Farnady Dee?”

He found Barnaby on the training grounds with Chiara and Badeea. While Chiara threw a stick for Borf who bounded after it happily, Barnaby and Badeea were....

Ethren grinned, approaching. “Painting, are we?” he purrs as he approaches, hands shoved into his pockets. 

“Ethren!” Barnaby beams, looking up, eyes shining happily. “Look at my painting!” He twisted his canvas around.

Ethren stared down the funky little painting. “It’s a bowtruckle, right?” Ethren asked and the boy nodded vigorously. 

“Do you like it?”

“I think it’s.... Very special.”

“Like you could do any better?” Badeea says with an impish smile, looking over her shoulder. She was painting Borf and Ethren snorted, immediately putting his hands up. 

“Okay, you got me there. I can’t paint worth shit but..why the sudden interest, Barnaby?”

“Apparently he wants to be a ‘Renaissance Man,” Chiara says with a laugh, chucking her stick and Borf tripped over himself in his excitement to race after it. 

Ethren arched a brow. “Oh really.”

“I’ve decided I want to become a Renaissance  _ Wizard _ ,” Barnaby swiped his green tipped brush over the bowtruckle’s face. “Jack of all trades and master of none.”

Ethren thinks a moment. “Well, you’ve already mastered pummeling your problems.”

“Okay, so master of one, then. And for what reason,  _ Ethren Whitecross, _ have you decided to seek out the Renaissance Wizard?” Barnaby says dramatically, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I needed some advice about Ismelda.”

Barnaby gave a sorrowful moan. “She doesn’t have a crush on me again, does she? My schedule is already quite packed with Renaissance Wizard activities.”

“Next thing he’s gonna learn is Frog Choir,” Badeea hisses.

Ethren didn’t want to imagine that. “No. I just figured since she  _ used to _ , you’d know how to...work around her, I suppose.”

Barnaby sighs, sitting down in the grass. He plucks clumps out of the ground thoughtfully. “To be honest with you, we haven’t been that friendly in years.”

“Why do you need to ‘get around her’ anyways, then?” Badeea asked and Ethren rubbed the back of his neck. 

“She’s sort of taken Beatrice Haywood under her wing?”

The three of them blinked, glancing over. “Penny’s little sister?” Chiara asked, hurling the stick. “Odd pair.”

“She’s been a bit lost.”

Badeea hums thoughtfully, her brush tending to the fur of her Borf painting. “I thought of Beatrice often this summer,” she says. “Every time I worked on a portrait...I was afraid to paint anything I couldn’t imagine being trapped within.”

“Yeah, well Ismelda is being protective as hell over Beatrice,” Ethren muttered, sitting down next to Barnaby with a  _ thump.  _ “There’s no getting by her. Figures she’d latch on to the only person who can stand her like iron. Which isn’t a good thing, she’s quite.... Jaded.” He looks up to Barnaby. “I figured you’d know something that could help, having been under Ismelda’s spell when we first met.”

A frown touched the boy’s lips as his fingers stilled. “...not just hers,” he says, brows furrowed, as if he’d just drawn up a bad memory. “Merula’s, too.”

Ethren groaned, flopping back and his head hitting the grass. “Don’t even get me  _ started _ on Merula,” he moans. “She’s reaching new levels of jaded.”

“Well...” Barnaby began to rip up new grass, sprinkling them over Ethren’s chest as he thinks a moment. “I think what helped me most was....” he flushes. “Time with you.”

Ethren blinked.

Then sat up, grass falling around his waist. “...what? Time with me?”

Barnaby nodded. “I wanted friends. Everyone does. But the ones I first found were often bitter and cruel. So I joined. Afraid to be left out.” He meets Ethren’s eyes. “Until you showed me I could have friends that didn’t behave that way. So that’s my best advice, Ethren. Spend time with Beatrice, whether Ismelda’s around or not. Beatrice probably just wants to feel like she’s part of something. Soon, she’ll see she has choices.”

Ethren, Badeea and Chiara stared at Barnaby with jaws unhinged.

Badeea broke the silence. “That. Was. So. Wise.”

“Rather touching, too,” Chiara smiles. 

“Who knew the boy had brains,” Ethren snorts with a grin, pushing to his feet and Barnaby beamed under the praise. 

“So what will you do now?” he asks and Ethren sighs.

“I suppose I’ll find Beatrice again and talk to her...thanks for the advice, Barnaby.” He left the three there, Badeea blushing and watching Barnaby with a new interest in her eyes. 

“Ethren!” Chiara was catching up to him, Borf in her arms. “I have an idea on how you can catch Beatrice alone, without Ismelda around.”

“Yeah?” He reached over, scratching the pup’s ears. A rough puppy tongue scraped along his fingers. “How’s that?” 

“You could try to find her in the Hufflepuff Common Room before we all go to sleep. I can make sure she stays awake until everyone’s gone and you can slip in.”

Ethren brightened. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen your Common Room before,” he says. “But what’s the password?”

“Password? We don’t have a password. The entrance is concealed behind a stack of barrels near the kitchens. You tap the barrel two from the bottom, middle of the second row, in the rhythm of 'Helga Hufflepuff' which will make the lid swing open and there'll be a secret passage!”

Ethren blinked. “For a house full of ‘finders’ your Common Room sounds really hard to find.”

“Just make sure you don’t tap the wrong barrel! Otherwise you’ll be doused with Fire Whiskey...that happened to Tonks once when she came up to the Common Room drunk on fire whiskey. But more important than that...” she shimmied up close to Ethren, batting her eyes. “Did you doooo iiittt?”

“Do... what?”

“Sign up! It’s my next classs~” 

Ethren groaned, glancing away, his cheeks burning. “...yeah, yeah, I took divination.”

Chiara squeaked with giddiness, hugging Ethren around his waist. “Yes! I’m so excited, I’ve been waiting ages to take this class, and now I’ve got my boyfriend  _ and  _ my best friend taking it with me!”

“Anything for you, Wolf Girl.”

Nope. 

This was definitely a mistake.

Sitting in pairs of two, Ethren’s chin was pressed into the starry purple cover of the table, tired bags under his eyes as he glowered at the professor who pranced around the classroom. He heard a giggle from beside him, Tonks leaning over to poke her finger into his cheek. “Yeah,” she purrs. “You look like you’re having a  _ great  _ time.”

“Yeah? How’d you guess.” Ethren took the time to drink in his surroundings. He almost would have preferred class in Madam Puddifoots. Each of the round tables they were sitting at in pairs were covered with a starry tablecloth, fluffy chairs and hundreds of scrying glasses and tarot decks lining the shelves. Behind him, he could see Talbott faceplanted into the table while Chiara rambled about how exciting the class was. 

And over in the corner, delicately stacked on a table was a tower of...

“Hey, Tonks,” he mutters into his folded arms, eyes closed.

“Yeah?”

“Careful around those tea cups.”

“...Ethren!” She whines, poking his arm. “Come on, how long are you gonna hold that against me?!”

“Until the day I die.”

The door opened as the Professor entered from the back room. And she was about as eccentric looking as Ethren had imagined. Frizzy hair, as though she’d stuck her wand in an electric socket, glasses that made her eyes look to be twice as big with a panicked look in them. 

“Welcome to divination, my children,” she announces, waving her arms dramatically. “I am the rarely seen, often talked about, Professor Trelawney. So why would each of you elect to study the most challenging and elusive of Magical Arts?”

Silence. The students stared up at her with exasperated expressions and Barnaby leaned over towards Ethren from his table, his voice low in a whisper. “...is she asking us? Or does she already know?”

Trelawney heard. Her head whipped around towards him. “I already know your reasons.”

Barnaby’s eyes widened in shock. “You just read my mind!”

Badeea, sitting across from him, rolled her eyes. “You said that  _ out loud,  _ Barnaby.”

_ “You!”  _ Trelawney suddenly shouted, making the class jump as she pointed in the back towards Liz. “You, wearing the magnificent spectacles!”

Liz’s eyes widened a fraction. “Me? Why did I take divination?” She flushes. “My mum’s a Seer. She made me take this class.”

“Your mother is wise,” Trelawney said mystically. “Though if you don't possess her Gift, there's precious little you can learn from me."

Ethren heard a cackle from beside him, Tonks leaning over with a wicked grin on her face. “Rumor is,” she whispers under her breath. “There's precious little we can learn from Trelawney, full stop.”

Ethren couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped him. Unfortunately.... It caught the attention of Trelawney who snapped her head over. “You!” She says, pointing at Ethren who leans over towards Tonks. 

“Oh, brother....”

Trelawney was approaching, knocking her hip into one of her tables as she goes before she reaches their own. “You, my dear...why have you elected to take divination?”

Technically he was there because Chiara dragged him into it. He could see her giving a thumbs up in the corner of his vision. “I wanted to know what the perilous and frightful future holds for me, Professor Trelawney,” he says, kicking back in his chair. 

“Frightful, indeed,” she said with a sageful nod of her head. “I have  _ seen  _ you in my visions, young Whitecross. I’ve seen.... Pain, and darkness. A betrayal! Your  _ worst fears  _ come to life!”

“Yeah,” Ethren muttered. “You’re a bit late on that prediction.”

“Oh, but that’s not all!” Trelawney says, eyes wide as she grabs his wrists. He immediately stiffens up, eyes narrowing to slits. “I see....I see darkness in your future, boy. I see...fire! Yes, fire, engulfing you...”

“Yeah?” Ethren arches a brow. “What about an ominous doom hanging over my head like a shadow?” He says it with sarcasm dripping from his lips and a couple of the students nearby hide smiles.

“Yes! Yes, I see that as well. Child, do you possess the Gift?”

“Fortunately, no.”

“And I see one more....one more vision...” she closes her eyes, gripping his hands tighter. “I see....I see death.”

Ethren doesn’t speak. His entire face has been possessed with cold fury as he rips his wrists from her grasp. “Thanks for the insight,” he says, his voice low. 

As she returned to the front to resume class, Badeea leaned over. “Don’t mind what she said, Ethren,” she says, patting his shoulder. “She gives omens of death to all her students, at least three times a semester.”

He nodded. But the horrible feeling still lingered. 

“Your journey into Divination begins today with the art of reading tea leaves," Trelawney says, gesturing to the stack of teacups. "Also known as Tessomancy." She squints at the students. “You, you and you will break teacups in the process, but I keep extras on hand.”

Barnaby blinked. “I can’t even tell who she was talking about,” he says as Tonks grins.

“This witch is fantastic. Ridiculous good fun."

“Shocked she didn’t point at you, Tonks.”

_ “Shut up, Ethren.” _

Near the end of class, Tonks and Ethren were leaning over each other’s tea cups, squinting. Tonks had one eye open and she sighed, placing it down and rested her shoulders on  _ Unfogging the Future.  _ “It’s official. These tea leaves look like tea leaves.”

Ethren scoffed, glancing over towards Trelawney who he could hear hovering over Talbott, telling him that his parents would likely get ill over the summer according to his skull shaped tea leaves, to which Talbott prompt told her they were dead and she skulked off to pester some other student. “She’s a fraud,” Ethren mutters, his voice bitter as he taps his finger on the table. “I have no idea why Dumbledore keeps her hired.”

“Who knows, maybe she blackmailed him.”

“I don’t think anyone can blackmail Dumbledore.”

Ethren was already tense when Trelawney made her way over to their table. She peered deep into Ethren’s cup and made a small gasp. "Oh! Oh my....oh....well this is rather troubling...."

Ethren sighed. “What.”

The woman closed her eyes. Knit them shut as she waved her hand in the air, as though she were cleaning a window. Opening her ‘Inner Eye.’ “I’m seeing.... Murky water....” she murmurs under her breath. 

Tonks leans over to see. “...it’s just a puddle of tea.”

Trelawney didn’t hear her. Barely acknowledged her. “Changes swirling around you.... Endings...final endings...Prices to pay...the ultimate price.”

“The ultimate price?” Chiara says, her eyes wide. “You mean like.... A death?”

Ethren didn’t respond. His hard eyes were locked on Trelawney - and the sound of a chair being shoved back emanated through the room as Ethren pushed to his feet. “Sorry,” he says. “Just remembered. I have a meeting with McGonogall.”

And without another word - swept from the room and slammed the trap door behind him.

“Ethren! Wait up!”

Chiara, Talbott and Tonks were racing to catch up with him as he stomped down the stairs. “Ethren, what’s wrong?”

“I’m not wasting my time in that class,” he snaps back, grating his teeth, not bothering to look back. “She’s a fake.”

“What?” Chiara’s eyes widened. “No she’s not!”

“Are you kidding? Did you even hear her?”

He’s wrenched back as Talbott grabs his arm, stopping him. Ethren scowled. “Let go,” he said, and in response, Talbott tightened his grip, shaking his head.

“No. There’s something else bothering you. What is it.”

Bothering him. That was putting it lightly. His head and his heart were pounding, cheeks flushed with fury. But his friends watching him, with concern on their faces.... It settled him. He gave a deep breath, leaning back against the wall. 

“....what if she heard about my curse,” he says faintly. “That I’m going to die, before I turn 21. What if she heard it and is using it as a springboard to come up with these false prophecies.”

Silence. “That would be...seriously shitty,” Tonks said with a frown. 

“And also... what if she  _ is  _ a real Seer?” Ethren asks, rubbing his face. “What if I am going to die...this year. Soon. I mean...it’s likely, right?”

A low growl tears from Talbott’s throat. “No,” he says firmly, grasping Ethren’s shoulder. “No, that woman is full of shit.”

“Talbott-” Chiara began but Talbott cut her off.

“She told me my parents would get sick this summer. My parents are  _ dead.  _ She has no idea what she’s talking about.”

“Guys, I-”

“And talking about a ‘goldfish’ that was going to die with Ismelda,” Tonks grinned. “Ethren, you really shouldn’t believe-”

_ “Guys.” _

Everyone looked over towards Chiara who flushes. “...what if...what if she  _ is  _ telling the truth though?” She asked. “You heard what she said. Murky waters....didn’t we find the trident in the Cursed Vault?”

“Yeah,” Ethren said, thinking back to the weapon hidden under his bed in the Gryffindor dormitory. “But she could have heard it from anyone. The Cursed Vaults aren’t exactly a secret.”

“Yes, I know, I know...but...” she bites her lip. “What if. What  _ if  _ she’s an actual Seer...her prophecy....it could help us.”

Ethren looked out the window. Rain poured against the window and the Whomping Willow swayed in the breeze. What if. Ethren pushes back his hair tiredly. “...I guess we’ll just have to wait for the next Cursed Vault to show its ugly face.”

“ _ Will _ there be a next Cursed Vault?” Tonks says anxiously, and Ethren turned, looking her dead in the eye.

“Yes.”

  
  
  


He had to catch Beatrice alone, without Ismelda. And unfortunately, the only place he could think of was the Hufflepuff Common Room, before Beatrice went to sleep. Getting in wasn’t too hard - Chiara had told him all he had to do was tickle the fruit on the portrait next to the door and it’ll swing open. But first he had to get there. 

Moonlight streamed down from the sky as he picked his way along the aisle surrounding th Courtyard, wrapping his cloak tighter around his shoulders. It was a dreary and cold night, utterly silent. What a nice night. He was about to sneak back into the school when a voice whispered into the night - and Beatrice’s voice.

_ “I just found him like this!” _

_ “Albus.....how could this have happened?”  _ McGonagall.

Ethren immediately put on the brakes, spinning around.  _ Albus?  _ Was....was Dumbledore out here? What was Beatrice doing here? And that sounded like McGonogall. He stepped forward, cocking his head to listen. Hushed whispers in the night. He slowed down, wand immediately materializing in his hand. With eyes narrowed, he slowly approached. He could see three figures standing in the middle of the courtyard, and edging forward to get a better view - he gasped, ducking around the corner.

Dumbledore. As well as Snape, and McGonagall....but what were they all doing out here...? He poked his head around, heart suddenly hammering in his chest. What if they caught him? He’d be screwed for sure. He’d have to go back to washing dishes with Jae. He was about to try to sneak away....when he caught sight of something they were gathered around. Something that had him freezing in his tracks. 

A statue. A student turned to stone. 

The final curse has come to Hogwarts.

  
  



	3. Mixed Message

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In an effort to decode Trelawney's mysterious prophecy, Ethren Whitecross seeks help from his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I.... really, really, really derailed this chapter from how it goes from the games. Not sorry.

News of the petrified student had spread through the school like wildfire. Whispers of a new curse, one that turned people to stone had everyone on their toes, excitement and fear hanging in the air wherever Ethren went. And of course, whenever there was news of the Cursed Vaults - it meant his popularity was suddenly soaring through the roof. 

He found himself pinned against the wall, three students closing in on him like raptors on their kill. 

“You’re going to stop this curse, right?”

“Well I-”

“Can you take me on your next adventure!”

“I don’t even know-”

“Think this next one is gonna kill you?”

He finally snapped at the party to leave and they sauntered off, whispering about how much of a ‘jerk’ Ethren Whitecross is. He was so sick of it. So sick of being a damn celebrity out of this. So sick of being shoved up on some pedestal and having so many expectations of him.

He was almost glad to be within the confines of Snape’s classroom, away from the suffocating eyes that watched him from every corner. With his chin on the table, he watched with tired eyes as Merula and Barnaby began to work on the wound-cleaning potion. Barnaby seemed to be quite nervous over the idea of another cursed vault, drumming his meaty fingers restlessly on the table. “Another Vault,” he murmurs lowly. “One that turns people to stone.... What turns people to stone? I mean, there are gorgons. Gorgons can turn people to stone! Think there’s a gorgon in the Cursed Vault?”

Ethren glances up. “If a gorgon turned that student into stone, then that means it’s wandering the grounds. I think someone would have seen it first.”

“Not if it was invisible.”

“Can they turn invisible?”

“No....I don’t think so.”

Merula glanced over towards her boyfriend. He had his face pressed into his folded arms and she reached over to push his hair around, nails dragging soothingly across his scalp. “You look exhausted.”

“Well between your vendetta for revenge, Ben being a twat, Trelawney’s prophecy and this new curse - not to mention trying to work out my  _ own  _ curse, consider me sleep deprived.”

She bit her lip. “Have you made any progress on your malediction?”

“No.”

“So what normally happens..? Will you just one day up and die if you’re too late?”

Ethren heaved a sigh, beginning to chop up ingredients. “I mean....basically? Essentially the curse will make me supremely unlucky. Chances of an accident higher. Car accident, freak illness. But if I manage to somehow get lucky....around my twentieth birthday I’ll just....” he hisses as he accidentally nicks his fingers, drawing it back to stare at the drop of blood blooming. “....just start withering away.”

Merula clicked her tongue, leaning with cloth in hand, tapping it to the wound. “So what now, Whitecross?” Merula asks with a roll of her eyes. “Gonna work yourself into an early grave trying to solve this one? Because I don’t think you need the Vaults for that.”

“Well, freeing that student is definitely a priority,” he says. “But right now, I have other things on my mind.”

“Jaxson?”

“Jaxson will come later.” He rubs his face. A week of neglect had allowed the faintest of stubble to grow along his jaw and tickled beneath his fingers, bags under his eyes. “I told you the prophecy that Trelawney gave me, right?” 

She shrugs. “Sure, but I mean....we all know Trelawney is bloody mad. Most of her predictions are fake. It hits all the marks. Over dramatic and an omen of your impending death.”

“I know. But...” he hesitates. “If there’s even a semblance of truth...I need to know what it is. Which means I need to figure out how to decipher the prophecy.”

“Good luck with that.” Merula was busying herself with crushing ingredients into a fine powder. Ethren arched a brow.

“This is the part where you offer some of your brilliant ideas.”

“No, this is the part where I don’t give a shit and let you figure it out on your own.” She scowls at him. “I don’t care about the Vaults anymore, Whitecross. I don’t care about your twat of a brother. All I care about is-”

“Finding Rakepick, I know.”

“Exactly. So why should I waste my time with this?”

Ethren tsks his tongue, leaning over until his head was against his girlfriend’s arm. “Oh, sweet, ignorant Merula,” he hums, her eyes flashing with irritation. “What do you think happens when we find the Vault.”

“We get pummeled by whatever’s inside, like usual?”

“No. If we find the Vault, we find Jacob. We break the curse.....and we find Rakepick.” He felt her stiffen. “Rakepick is looking for the Vault just like we are. But we have a head start. We have Trelawney’s prophecy.  _ And  _ we have the trident. If we can get to the Vault  _ before  _ Rakepick, we have the jump on her. We can wait for her to come to us.”

He draws his head up now, gripping her hands. He side eyes Barnaby who’s busied himself with work, and draws his gaze over to Merula. His voice is low. “I want her dead as much as you do,” he murmurs. “But if that’s going to happen..... We need to work together.”

Merula doesn’t say anything for a moment. Lavender eyes roam his features. Then, finally, she sighs.“You always appeal to my plots of vengeance to get what you want,” she hums, then a smirk lifts the edge of her mouth. “It’s deviously manipulative.”

“Learned from the best.”

“Damn right, you did,” she says, leaning forward, pressing her lips to his. She leans back, tapping her black nails on the table thoughtfully. “We could start in the library. Try to search how prophecies are usually unraveled and deciphered.”

Ethren couldn’t help but smile. He put his head in his hands, watching her with a shit eating grin. “You know, the last time we were in the library-”

“Oooh, no, Whitecross,” Merula was already pressing her palm against Ethren’s mouth. “I think one disaster of a date is enough.”

“Oh, come on,” Ethren ducks around her hand. “We’ve been dating for a year but normally all we do is....you know. Plot. Research. Argue.”

“Technically we banter.”

“There’s barely a difference. Can’t we just go and do something?”

“Like what?” Merula was frowning as she watched him. “Just go to Hogsmeade again? Sit under the Whomping Willow and pretend like everything’s fine? Like we’re a normal couple?” She grits her teeth, turning her eyes away. “We can’t do that. Because nothing about us is normal, Ethren. And we don’t have time to waste making googly eyes at each other...” 

She trails off as Ethren touches her cheek, drawing her eyes back to him. “I don’t want us to be normal,” he says, voice tender. “I just...want you.”

Snape announced the end of class. Merula watched him, a frown touching her lips before she sighs, pulling her face away and swings her bag over her shoulder. “You can have me after this is over,” she says. “We have work to do.”

“Thanks for helping us, Charlie.”

“Sure, why not? I’ve already checked out the dragonology books anyways.”

With arms full of books and tomes, Ethren, Merula and Charlie made their way over to one of the tables, dropping them down with a grunt. The sound of ten books smacking against the table surface had Pince looking over.  _ “Shh!” _

“So,” Charlie says, sitting down on one of the chairs as he grabbed  _ Omens, Oracles and the Goat.  _ “Do you think it’s a  _ real _ prophecy?”

Ethren snorts, sitting down next to him. “No. But if there’s even a sliver of possibility that it is, I need to jump on it.”

“What are we even looking for?” Merula asked, opening up  _ The Dream Oracle  _ and Ethren leaned back. 

“Well....I think first we should take apart her dream piece by piece. Granted, there isn’t much but we should research what each part symbolizes. Kind of like how you’d find the symbolism in a dream. He smacks a paper down in the middle of the table with his hastily scrawled writing. 

Changes swirling around you.

Endings...final endings.

Prices to pay...the ultimate price.

Charlie paled, leaning forward. “The ultimate price....so like..a death?”

“Who knows. Either way, we need to find the symbolism for things like... swirling. Endings. Prices. Maybe that will help us decipher it.”

Charlie shakes his head. “Figures she couldn’t give a prophecy about us all getting married and living long and healthy lives and flying off into the sunset on the backs of dragons.” He waves his book. “Better get to studying then!”

The book was snatched out of his hands.

Percy stood behind him, leering down his pointed nose at his older brother and pushed his glasses up. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

“Percy!” Charlie scowled. “Give me that.” He made a grab at the book before Percy danced out of the way. “Have you been following me?!”

“Yes. To make sure you’re not shirking your studies, like you have been all summer.”

Ethren, having snuck around behind the nasal-y voiced teen, plucked it from his grasp and Percy twisted around to frown at him. “I think being trapped in a horrendous vault, fighting a dragon and being left for dead by his professor gives him a free pass.” He tosses it back to Charlie who gives him a grateful look. “Worry about yourself, brat.”

Charlie looks to his brother. “I can’t just carry on like everything is normal,” he says. 

It seems Percy has a semblance of humanity. His eyes softened and he sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “Look. I understand what happened with Prof- with Rakepick. It was awful. We’ve  _ all  _ heard you thrashing around at night at the Burrow.” Charlie’s cheeks burned red. “But it's no excuse. Honestly, it's bad enough I have to babysit the twins now that they've started at Hogwarts. I never thought I'd have to tell my Prefect older brother to keep his mind on school.” He sighs. “What would Bill say if he knew about this?”

Ethren’s eyes were narrowed. This pretentious little prick. He had no idea what kind of hell Charlie’s been through the last few years. 

A hell that he got Charlie involved in. 

Ethren shouldered in front of Charlie, glowering down at the younger brother. “I  _ think _ ,” he says coolly. “Bill would sympathize with what your brother has been through and made sure he focused on his well being before education.”

“Bill was betrayed by Rakepick too,” Percy says, folding his arms. “But he’s still been able to focus on his duties as a Curse-Breaker at Gringotts.”

Charlie sighed, rubbing his neck. “Listen, I’ll study, all right. Things have just been....hard.”

“Good. Because if you don’t, I’m telling mum.” And with a huff - Percy marched off to contend with the twins who were busy making menaces of themselves.

Merula glanced up, already nose deep in reading. “We finished with the family drama? Or can we get back to studying.”

All three fell into silence as they pawed through books.  _ Death Omens: What to Do When You Know the Worst is Coming. The Predictions of Tycho Dodonus. Unfogging the Future.  _ But Ethren couldn’t focus. As he read, his thoughts kept drifting back to Charlie. He hadn’t realized Charlie was struggling so much with getting back to normal. 

He glanced over towards his friend. Charlie was leaning back, the book on his lap....there were great shadows under his eyes. His face was a bit more pale, features a little more gaunt....probably wasn’t eating and sleeping as much.

Ethren felt a sick churn of guilt in his stomach.

Charlie caught him staring and looked up with a frown. “Ethren?” he asked. “Are you all right?”

“I’m sorry.”

Charlie blinked and slowly lowered his book down. “What? Why are you sorry?”

“For dragging you into all of this.” Ethren rubbed his arms as a chill settled over the library. “I needed you back during the Forest Vault. And I had you help me and never worried about how involving you might hurt you. And then last year, with the Portrait Vault...”

Charlie was already lifting his hand, cutting Ethren off. “Ethren,” he pressed. “I  _ asked  _ to go on that mission.”

“I know. You wanted to see the dragon. But it was still...my fault. And now, I’m getting you pulled into  _ this  _ curse, and-” 

“No.” Charlie leans over, grasping Ethren’s shoulder. “The only person at fault is Rakepick. Got that?  _ Rakepick.  _ Not you. Not me. Not even that poor dragon. Rakepick. So quit giving yourself reasons to beat yourself up.” He taps his book. “Come on. We have studying to do.”

Ethren gave a dull nod, returning his eyes back to the tomes piled up in front of him. But the thought still ate at him.

How many friends has he pulled into his bullshit. How many lives has he changed...for the worse.

_ “I got it!” _

Ethren snapped his head up towards Merula who was coming forward with a book. “What?” He asks, pushing to his feet. “What did you find?”

He and Charlie had been discussing the prophecy. How ‘endings’ might refer to the last Cursed Vault, and the Ultimate Prince death. Merula dropped her book onto the table. “Well, nothing about the prophecy.”

“Great, sounds helpful.”

“Just wait, Whitecross.” She opened it up. Ethren leaned forward. 

“Centaurs?” There was a sketch, and it detailed Centaurs looking up into the sky, holding herbs and charts. “What do centaurs have to do with anything.”

“Centaurs are incredibly good Divinists,” Merula said. “"They observe the movement of the planets, the moons and the stars. And they narrow their predictions down using herbs."

“So you’re suggesting I get help from the centaurs?”

“Do we have another option? Doesn’t look like you two have made much progress.”

It was true. Though they’d come up with lots of theories, they’d come up with nothing concrete. “Then we’d better hope Torvus is in a lenient mood. I need him to-”

“-Take me to your camp.”

“Absolutely not.”

The sound of birds filled the air around them, sunlight gleaming in through the trees above as Ethren kept pace with Torvus. Back in the company of his herd, he wore tribal paint down across his fur and a variety of jewelry around his hooves and neck. He had a great bow slung, arrow nocked as they stepped through a copse of trees. The forest was almost beautiful in the daytime. Why did they only ever come here when it was night and creepy?

“Torvus, there’s a new curse,” Ethren pressed, stepping over a log. “If I don’t find the answer to this soon-”

“Shh.”

“-then even more students might end up-”

“Quiet!”

Ethren went still. Torvus had nocked an arrow back to his ear, twisting around towards some underbrush where there were the snaps and cracks of twigs. But nothing emerged. Torvus relaxed his bowstring. Ethren watched Torvus with a frown. “.....you’re much more tense than normal. Is everything all right?”

“Yes.” He turns back to Ethren. Dusky skin practically glowed in the sunlight as the centaur stepped over a creek. “I cannot allow you to meet my herd.”

Ethren snorted, folding his arms. “The only reason you’re even back with them is because of me.”

“And I wouldn’t have been banished in the first place had it not been for your brother.”

Damn. That was a good point. 

Ethren breathes, jogging to catch up with the centaur as he began to move again. “Listen,” he pants. “There has to be some way I can meet them. What if I bring them offerings. Food? Snacks? I can teach them about uh. The new mobile phones coming out?”

“My herd does not want to have their way of life interfered with by humans,” Torvus says. “Our way of life is traditional and private. Only one has ever entered our tribe... your brother. And he left destruction in his wake.”

“I’m not my brother.” Ethren was in front of Torvus now, stopping him and the centaur’s eyes flickered with irritation. “There has to be a way I can prove myself.”

Torvus studied Ethren. Sharp eyes drew over the Hogwarts student, and he heaved a sigh. “You really are quite stubborn, aren’t you.”

“You have no idea, pony boy.”

Torvus heaved a sigh, pushing back his dark hair. “....all right,” he says. “You have  _ one _ chance. Once chance to prove yourself. You will be joining my tribe and I on one of our ancient traditions.”

Ethren’s heart surged. “Yeah! Yes. Anything, Torvus. What is it?” 

Torvus’ grin was impish as he shouldered his bow. It was massive - ten feet long, with arrows like spears. 

“A hunt.”

Typical that it couldn’t take place during the day.

Ethren had been instructed to bring absolutely nothing but the clothes on his back. Which included his wand. After sneaking out of the Gryffindor common room, made his way out to the forest grove. He felt utterly vulnerable. Without his wand, if anything decided he looked like a tasty snack he’d be screwed. He took shelter against the roots of a large fallen tree, closing his eyes and prayed Torvus and his herd would arrive before a werewolf or a manticore did.

Then he heard it. The sound of hooves thundering against the ground....and more than just Torvus. Ethren exhaled and stood - facing down the herd of centaurs that were now charging into the grove. He was unprepared for how utterly massive they would be. It was immediately clear that Torvus was just an adolescent. The adult centaurs towered ten feet tall, their bodies like gypsy vanners and hooves pounding into the ground as they circled him.

And they all had weapons. Spears and bows - all directed towards him. 

He slowly lifted his hands. His heart was pounding in his chest as he stepped forward. “My name is Ethren Whitecross,” he calls out. “I’m a student from Hogwarts.”

Murmurs of distaste rippled through the herd. 

“I’ve come under the invitation of Torvus.”

One of the centaurs sneered, stepping forward. He was of even larger calibre than the others. His fur and skin were black and dusky, a spear sized arrow aimed at him as he pulled the string back to his ear. “Torvus,” he growled. “The exile....how very promising.”

“Exile no longer. Silence, Bane.”

A chestnut coloured centaur was parting through the herd. He had a magnificent head dress and far more jewelry...this must be their leader. He towered above all, save for Bane, dark eyes roaming over Ethren who forced himself still under their gaze. “....the last time we interacted with a human, we were robbed. Disrespected. And forced to exile one of our own. Tell me, Ethren Whitecross, why we should help you.”

Angry mutters ripped through the herd. Ethren could see Torvus a bit behind the leader, looking quite sheepish under the harsh gazes of his elders. 

His hands were shaking. He steeled himself and looked the centaur in the eye. “I’m of Jacob’s blood,” he says. “I am not defined by his mistakes. But I will do what I can to right his wrongs and prove that I can be an ally of your colony.”

The centaur said nothing for a moment. His fingers glided over the feathers of his arrow, and Ethren was sure he was going to just shoot him and be done with it.

Then the centaur waved his hand. All others relaxed their bows without question, save for Bane who grunted, stomping his hoof with irritation into the ground. 

“My name is Magorian,” says the leader. “The only reason you have this opportunity is because Torvus has risked his place in the tribe to vouch for you....and because you are a friend of Hagrid.”

Ethren blinked. “...of...Hagrid?”

“He is a trusted friend of our tribe. He does not treat us as mindless beasts as humans do. We will grant you his tolerance.” His eyes flare. “But only this once. Ronan! His weapon.”

As another centaur moved away to get his weapon, Magorian turned to Ethren. “Tonight, we hunt a creature that’s been stalking our herd for the last two weeks. Already, it has slain two of our foals and one of our elders. We end it, here and now.”

Great. So they were hunting a beast that had the balls to mess with a centaur tribe. Ethren gulped. “And uh....what kind of creature is this again?”

“A chimera.”

Shit.

A centaur was approaching now, weapon in hand. A bow. A bit big, but all right. He was in the NASP program when he was little. He could do this. As Ronan handed him the weapon, some of the centaurs began to chuckle, and Ronan leaned down, his voice cold and deep in Ethren’s ear. 

“That is the bow of a foal. Think it will suffice?”

Ethren grit his teeth, biting back a scathing comment as he shouldered his quiver. “It’ll be fine.”

“Then the hunt begins.” Magorian leapt through the brush, followed by the thunders of his hooves. Ethren went to mount Torvus when Bane swept by, knocking Ethren off his feet and to his back with an ‘oof!’

“You would dare let this human mount you like some common mule?” He roars, his voice guttural, at Torvus who narrows his eyes.

“He won’t be able to keep up with us.”

“That’s his problem. If he is to learn our traditions, he is to hunt as we do. On his feet.” He looks to Ethren. “Unless you insist on being carried. In which case, perhaps I can hunt you down and throw you over my back like a kill.”

“I can keep up.”

Bane glowered at the pair for a moment more before he bounded into the darkness after the rest of the colony, followed by Torvus who gave Ethren a look of pity and drew his spear.

Ethren groaned, shifting his bow into a more comfortable position as he tore after the centaurs and into the darkness.

If this prophecy ended up being a fake, Hogwarts staff would be one professor short.


	4. Friends in Low Places

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While his friends struggle to cope with the events of last year, Ethren attempts to uncover a possible new threat.

It took nearly two hours to track down the chimera. 

Despite how big it was, it had moved with stealth and finesse through the forest, careful to avoid its centaur pursuers. Every shift of the clouds above cast shadows dancing across the great trees flanking the hunting party that crept through the forest. Even with their size, the centaurs were practically silent. Their hooves pressed down soundlessly into the mossy forest floor, spears and weapons in hand. 

Ethren drew his thumb along the sleek wood of his bow as he edged closer to Torvus. “This chimera.... It’s killed some of your foals?”

Torvus gave a grim nod. His bow was slung over his back, longspear clutched firm in his grasp. “That’s right. It’s been stalking our colony for the last two moons. Fern and Aspen were both dragged into the woods after wandering too far from the adults...” he scowled. “It didn’t eat them.

“What? Why not?”

“We don’t know. We found their corpses mangled. Clearly, it’s killing to just toy with us.” The centaur grits his teeth. His hoof pounds angrily into the ground. “That’s why it has to go down. It’s a danger to us all.”

They stopped when Magorian threw up his hand. His ear twitched, looking around slowly and when the dusky centaur knelt, he dragged his hand over broken brambles and long gouges in a nearby tree. “It’s close. Be at the ready,” he calls out softly, leaping over a large tree root. The colony founded and Ethren struggled to keep up.

His legs were burning. It was by pure look and the mercy of his friend that he was able to keep track of the centaurs. His face was littered in scratches from branches slashing against his skin and his ankle ached after twisting it on a root. 

But he had to keep going. 

He  _ had  _ to get into that camp. 

The centaurs were beginning to slowly circle around a clearing in the forest. Bane and Magorian wordlessly motioned forward. Ethren’s heart was pounding as he crept forward, and he gasped. 

He hasn’t seen a chimera since he encountered the one belonging to Kettleburn. This definitely was not the same one. This chimera was  _ much  _ bigger. Its hooves were pressed into the neck of a unicorn while it tore into its flesh. The chimera’s serpentine tail flicked and twitched as it ate and he heard Torvus curse. “Blasted beast,” he snarls. “Feasting on a unicorn...”

Nearby, Magorian made a gesture with his hand. Similar to sign language, it was a rapid series of signals that had the centaurs splitting up, surrounding the grove. “Stay here,” Torvus murmurs into Ethren’s ear. “You’re to shoot at it if it comes your way.”

Shit. Okay. They were really doing this. Ethren nodded numbly, sinking down into the brush. The centaurs disappeared from sight as they got into position. The chimera tore away slabs of meet, fangs bloodied with silver ichor - when it freezes. Its ears twitch. And it lifts its head, sniffing the wind. 

Shit. It smelled them.

Ethren fumbled for his bow. He drew the string halfway back, arrow nocked and aimed for the beast as it slowly stood. 

All hell broke loose.

Three centaurs charged from the brush towards the chimera- and it was ready for them. Its stinger twitched, piercing into the side of one of the centaurs and he fell, hard, smashing into the ground, screaming as the venom worked its way into his system. Two others flanked the beast, spears at the ready and both bounced effortlessly off of its tick hide. 

“Surround it, now!” Magorian’s voice snapped out. Immediately, the centaurs begin to converge on it, leaping from their coverage on all sides. Weapons slash and flare in the moonlight, arrows shot from bows only to be knocked away by the chimera’s lashing stinger. 

It roared, a sound that made Ethren’s ears threaten to bleed. The chimera charged one of the centaurs, knocking him clear off his hooves and into a tree. Ethren had been so sure that the centaurs would take this thing down with ease. They were so sure of themselves. So competent. And yet they were being picked off like flies.

The chimera sank its teeth into one of the centaurs’ legs and flung it like a ragdoll. And when it opened its mouth - a stream of fire poured out from between its fangs, forcing the centaurs to scatter.

Ethren had been frozen in shock, bow paralyzed in his fingers. And as he heard one of the centaurs, Rowan cry out in pain as his fur caught fire he cursed, fumbling for an arrow. He knocked it, drawing the string back to his ear. The torque was stronger than what he was typically used to, and the wizard’s arms trembled as he aimed and fired.

It should have been a sure hit. But it merely bounced off of its scales, the arrow snapping. 

By now, most of them were incapacitated, nursing burns and broken bones, or worse. Even Magorian and Bane lay stunned, struggling to pick themselves up. And they were completely unaware of the beast that was beginning to stalk towards them, acidic drool dripping from between its fangs and sizzling into the forest floor. 

“Get away from them!”

Torvus.With spear in hand, he leapt over the two centaurs, hooves flying as he reared up between his chief and the chimera. And was the first to land a hit. His flailing hooves struck the chimera right in the eye and the creature roared, backing away as it retreated from the young centaur. 

But Torvus forgot about its tail.

The chimera twisted around and it smashed into him, knocking Torvus clear off his hooves and into Bane and Magorian, all three dazed. 

Blood dripped from the chimera’s eye. It gave a horrible snarl as it rounded on them, teeth bared as it approached...

When a heavy stone bounced off of its face.

“Hey!” Ethren shouted, leaping up on top of a log. “Over here!”

He wasn’t exactly sure what he’d been planning. Maybe it wouldn’t  _ actually  _ think he looked like a tasty snack and he could just praise himself for trying later. Or maybe he’d been hoping he could distract it just long enough for the centaurs to get their shit together. Either way....it worked.

The one eyed chimera turned towards him, acid dripping from his open maw and with shocking speed - bounded towards him. It was only his quick reflexes that saved him. A curse left him as he dived off the log, tumbling off and coming up on one knee. He could hear the sound of it snapping in half behind him under the weight of the chimera’s paw. 

The chimera moved like a panther. Slowly. Surely. Its eyes - eye - was right on him as it slowly circled, a low growl vibrating from its chest. Fuck. He was dead. He was so, so dead. 

It surged forward. And in a panic - Ethren did the first thing that came to mind. Even if it broke the rules.  _ “Protego!”  _

A blue shield was conjured before him as he threw out his hand and the chimera smashed into it, sending him flying back. He hit the ground, hard, the breath leaving him as it was knocked out of his lungs. He gasped, pain making him seize up as he slowly rolled onto his side, grasping for his bow. 

Only to find it broken, cracked in half.

The centaurs were still pushing to their feet. And the chimera’s attention was on him. Hell, no. This was not how he was dying. He swiveled his head. There had to be something - anything! Then he spotted it. A spear, lying up against a tree, a motionless centaur beside it. He could make it... if he ran fast enough. 

Another roar brought with it a surge of adrenaline as Ethren tore to his feet, the chimera lunging after him. The sound embodied the promise of death. He could hear it behind him, paws and claws tearing through the ground as it closed on him. Almost... almost!

Ethren’s knees bit into the dirt, fingers curling around the spear. He twisted around, squeezing his eyes shut and lifted the spear, back pressed into the bark as the Chimera closed in on him. 

Both wizard and beast collapsed to the ground.

Torvus was the first to his feet, a bit wobbly as he approached swiftly. “Ethren!” He shouted, an edge of panic to his voice as he came up next to the chimera. “Ethren, are you okay?”

The chimera began to move, shoulders shifting and there was a snarl as Magorian came up beside Torvus. “Torvus! Get back! The rest of you, take aim!”

Bows lifted. Spears were hefted. Weapons about to thrust forward - when with a gasp of breath and effort, the chimera was shoved off the young gryffindor who fell on his hands and knees, spear lodged directly in its heart. 

He didn’t even have time to recover from his shock and exhausted. He’d been lifted up onto Torvus’ back, congratulated by centaurs all the way back to their camp. “Beast Slayer,” they’d taken to call him, much to the agitation of Magorian and Bane, who’d all but ignored him as they led the way back to the rest of the colony.

When they finally left to congratulate one another on a successful hunt, five of them carrying the corpse of the chimera, Ethren leaned forward. “It was an accident,” he mutters. “I was just... trying to protect myself.”

“Half of hunting is accidents and luck,” Torvus snorts, glancing back. “Besides. All you’d been asked to do was  _ accompany  _ us on a hunt. As in, simply survive it. I think you went above and beyond the line of duty.”

“We approach the camp!” Magorian shouts out. “Human.” Ethren looked up. Magorian’s dark eyes were locked on him, a scowl withering his features. “You will be watched at all times. You are simply a guest among us. But you do not belong.”

Ethren bowed his head. “Yes, sir.”

Magorian sneered, lifted the branch - and led the way into the centaur camp. It was cozier than Ethren had imagined. Tarps were thrown up between the trees, decorated with ink made from the forest itself and tents held aloft by spears of woven wood. Crates and barrels of ingredients, arrows and food and wool dotted the edges of the camp and in the center, a roaring fire around which females and foals lay.

As soon as the males returned from the hunt, they were up on their feet, rushing into the arms of their lovers and fathers. 

The most injured, the one whose spear Ethren had stolen, was practically tackled to the ground by a pair of twin foals, laughter erupting. 

Of course, there was confusion as they regarded the wizard. A series of whispers that halted as Magorian raised his hand. “The human has passed our trial and deemed safe,” he assured. It sounded as though he had the push the words out. “He has been granted sanctuary and may stay here for a short time.”

Soon, Ethren sat in a circle around the fire along with the rest of the centaurs as they regaled the rest of the camp in their hunt. How a mere human took down the mighty beast as it breathed fire and wreaked havoc. 

A young foal pranced over, dropping a flower crown onto his head and Ethren flushed, thanking him as he sat back.

A hand touched his shoulder. Torvus. He motioned for Ethren to follow him and Ethren pushed to his feet as they left the company of the rest of the colony. “So what do you think?” Torvus asked with a smile, ear twitching excitedly.

“It’s nice,” Ethren said. “A lot more comfortable than I imagined.”

“What did you imagine, that we’d be eating insects and human skulls mounted on the trees?”

“Something like that.”

Torvus snorted. “No. We live a peaceful life, not a barbaric one. But... here, I wanted to introduce you to someone.”

They were towards the edge of the camp now. And laying out on the grass, peering through a gap of the trees and into the starry sky was a centaur. “Firenze! I brought Ethren, the human I told you about.” 

The centaur turned. He was nothing like Ethren expected. In fact - one might say the centaur was even strikingly handsome. He had almost elven features, skin paled unlike the dusky tone of the rest of the centaurs and silver blonde hair that flattered his palomino like lower half. Shockingly blue eyes blinked at him curiously before he smiled. “Ethren. Torvus has told me so much about you.” He pats the grass beside him. “Come here. Sit with me.”

Kind.  _ Suspiciously  _ kind. Ethren blinked, looking up to Torvus who nodded encouragingly and he sucked in a breath, sitting down. 

Firenze said nothing for a long moment. His eyes drew over the starry sky and when he finally spoke, his words were soft. “Do you know the stars, Ethren Whitecross? Do you know their designs?” 

He must mean constellations. Ethren shivered, an autumn chill beginning to seep in as he drew his knees into his chest. “...I know the constellations back at home. Orion is my favorite.”

“Orion the hunter,” Firenze mused. “Are you a connoisseur of stars?”

“I mostly just like looking at them.” 

A chuckle left the centaur’s lips. “That do we all.”

Ethren shifted a bit. “Firenze,” he said. “Why do you...why are you so comfortable with...”

“Why do I not shun you like the rest of my kind?” Firenze finishes, finally tearing his eyes from the stars to look at Ethren. “My people can rarely look past their own anger and resentment. I simply believe we all have more to gain by working together than apart. Of course, if the rest of the centaurs heard me say that, save for your friend, Torvus, I might find myself exiled as well.” 

“Then why talk to me in the first place?” Ethren asked, brows bumping together.

The centaur leans back, brushing silvery hair over his shoulder. "I must do whatever I think is right, be it helping humans or otherwise. And for now, that includes helping you with your prophecy?”

“Torvus told you about that?”

“Of course. He’s my apprentice. He tells me everything.” He closes his eyes, as though he were absorbing the starlight right into his skin. “Tell me what your professor said, Ethren.”

The gryffindor paused. “It said... changes swirling around you. Endings...final endings. Prices to pay...the ultimate price.” He shook his head. “But...Trelawney is known for being batshit crazy to begin with. It’s likely it’s all a load of bull.”

“Perhaps,” Firenze hums. “And if it isn’t?” Ethren didn’t have an answer for that. “The truly gifted are often perceived as mad or outsiders from the rest of their peers. Myself included. I’m interested in meeting this Trelawney...”

Ethren snorted. “I’ll put in a recommendation to Dumbledore. Maybe you can replace her.”

The centaur gave a laugh. “As much as I respect your school, I don’t think my path will ever lead me to teaching. But I appreciate the compliment nonetheless. 

Ethren told Firenze how he learned of the prophecy. How they’d been studying tessomancy when she suddenly grabbed him, speaking the prophecy and scarcely remembering it after. Firenze wrinkled his nose, shaking his head. “Tessomancy...I’ve found most human divination to be nonsensical. Astrology is far more sophisticated. We don’t use it for trivial matters but.... Students being petrified... this is serious.” He exhales. “Give me a moment to consult the stars.” And without another word, the centaur tipped his head up towards the sky.

He nearly fell asleep waiting for Firenze to finish. Leaning back against the centaur’s blonde fur, the exhaustion of the day had his eyes slipping closed before Firenze woke him. “I’ve finished.”

Ethren stirred awake, rubbing away the tiredness of his eyes. “So... what do you think?” he asked. “Were you able to divine any answers?”

Firenze’s tail flicked thoughtfully. “I have a few initial impressions, but to get a clearer answer, I will need to study the heavens furter. Unfortunately, accurately monitoring the movement of the planets and stars is no easy task. It will take time."

Ethren’s shoulders slumped. “...I see. All right.”

Firenze’s cerulean eyes softened. He rested a hand on Ethren’s shoulder. “Don’t fret, young wizard. I will not cease until I can provide you answers. A threat to Hogwarts is a threat to us all.”

“I suppose that’s all I can ask.”

“I’ll seek you out when I can provide a clearer answer. For now...” he smirked. “You look about ready to fall asleep.”

He was. Ethren swayed a bit, rubbing his eyes and yawned. “It’s been a long day.”

“I can imagine.” Firenze’s easy expression suddenly turned serious. “You should return to the school. I urge you to stay safe and keep your friends close. Because while I cannot pin down the specifics of the prophecy yet...I can safely say that danger and strife are in your future.”

Danger and strife, huh. Well, that was nothing new.

Ethren’s muscles felt like lead as he dragged himself up the steps of the Gryffindor tower. He was so exhausted. Every bone in his body felt like it had been bruised during the fight with the chimera and he was well aware of the fact that his clothes were still spattered with blood. First a shower.... Then bed. 

He pushed through the doors. It was 3 AM. Everyone should have been asleep.... But instead, he found Rowan and Charlie sitting on the latter’s bed, talking nervously. And as soon as he entered, all three turned, relief washing over their features.

_ “Ethren!”  _ Rowan said, bounding up from the bed as quick as Ethren’s puppy, both of them tackling into him. “We were so worried! Where have you been? Why are you covered in blood?!”

“Hunting,” Ethren muttered, scooping the pup up. “Why are you all awake?”

“You were gone all night,” Charlie said. He looked...pissed as he scowled at him. “We thought you were petrified somewhere, Ethren! Why were you hunting?”

“I’ll tell you when I’m not ready to pass out,” Ethren muttered, walking past both to flop onto his bed. He could hear them talking over his shoulder.

“At least Ethren is safe,” Rowan murmurs. “But Ben is still gone, too...”

Ben.

Ethren pushed his face up to look at them, Zephyr tugging on his locks of hair. “What? What do you mean Ben is gone?”

“He hasn’t been seen all day,” Charlie said. 

“I’ve seen him.”

All three boys looked to Jae who was laying on his belly on his bed, stacking coins on top of one another idly. “We’ve been talking about Ben all damn night!” Charlie snapped. “And you’re only  _ now  _ just telling us you’ve seen him?”

“To be fair, I was a bit distracted.” The boy motioned to the coins. 

“Then where did you see him? Is he okay?”

“Yeah, he’s fine. Last I saw him he was threatening dark wizards in Knockturn Alley looking for Rakepick.”

“He’s doing  _ what?!”  _ Rowan squeaked, practically leaping off the bed. “We- we have to go get him! He could get hurt, someone could kill him!”

Silence. Ethren, who’d been snuggling into his sheets, looked up to find Charlie and Rowan staring at him. He scowled and sat up. “The hell are you looking at  _ me  _ for?”

“You are most familiar with Knockturn Alley,” Rowan reasoned. “Well, except for Jae but he probably won’t help us.”

“Nope,” Jae purred. 

Ethren snorted, sitting up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. “Who cares if he wants to go and risk his neck?” he said. “Ben’s confident he can do everything alone and in his ‘new’ way. So why not let him?”

“Because you know it’s going to end up getting him killed,” Charlie said coolly. “We have to stop him.”

_ We. We as in me.  _ As much as Ethren was angry with Ben... he couldn’t just sit by and let him get himself killed. He cursed up a storm as he pushed off the bed, grabbing his leather jacket from his trunk and tugged it on over his bloodied shirt. “Guess I can’t go to sleep just yet, then,” he muttered. 

Ethren only ever visited when he needed. Knockturn Alley was a wretched place of twisting alleyways devoted to the Dark Arts. 

The night was cold as Ethren pushed through the crowd, the hood of his dark cloak pulled up to cover his face. All sorts of nefarious and suspicious people lingered about on the streets. A witch with missing teeth, crying out, "If ye buy one shrunken 'ead, get one free! Ye know what they say, two 'eads are better than one!" Ethren steered clear of her as teal eyes darted about the dark figures, trying to pick out the fellow student.

Of all places Ben... why here. 

There was a shattering of glass as a wizard was thrown through the windows of one of the taverns, glass and blood spattering the muddy street and Ethren stopped short. The man stumbled to his feet, shouting profanities through the window before stumbling off, followed by two seedy looking men with wands in hand.

A scuffle caught his attention. A wizard with another pinned against the wall down some small little alley leading to nowhere. He would have walked past.... Had he not heard the voice hissing out. 

“-going to tell me whatever you know, got it?!”

_ Ben?! _

Ethren spun around, ducking into the alley in shock. And there was Ben. Blonde hair tousled, blue eyes narrowed to slits, he had his fist curled around the collar of a scrappy wizard, a wand to his throat. “You’ve seen her, haven’t you?” Ben continued with a growl. 

The wizard flinched, turning his head away as he squeaked. “Are you bloody mad?!” He wailed. “I ain’t seen no Rakeperk!”

“Rake _ pick.” _

“I ain’t seen her either! Lemme go!”

“ _ Ben!”  _ Ethren shouted. 

Startled, Ben released his grip on the mage just enough for the wizard to squirm away and sprint down the alley. But not before Ben leveled his wand.  _ “Immobulus!”  _ The jinx struck the wizard right in the back and he froze mid step before crashing to the ground.

Ben grit his teeth, looking over his shoulder at Ethren. “Look what you did now! He nearly got away.”

Ethren gawked at Ben. “...Ben.... what the  _ hell are you doing?!” _

“Getting answers. Can’t you tell?” 

“Answers?” Ethren glanced over Ben’s shoulder. The wizard was still frozen still. “Answers for what?”

“Rakepick.” He began to walk over towards the wizard. “Searching around the castle hasn’t turned up any leads.”

“Rake....” Ethren frowned, following close after. “That’s what this is all about?  _ Rakepick?  _ Why would you be interested in her?”

“Since I decided I'd stop being the protectee and start being the protector. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect my friends from the Cursed Vaults and Rakepick.

It was only then that Ethren... really got to see Ben then as he passed under a light. There were dark shadows under his eyes. His usually neat blonde hair was tousled and messy, clothes dark, seeming to fit in quite well with the dull grunge of Knockturn Alley. And stronger. He must have packed on some muscles during the summer. 

Ethren caught up to him. “And you really think interrogating dodgy wizards in Knockturn is going to bring you any closer to finding her? That’s insane. And a good way to get yourself killed.”

“And a good way to get information.” He motions down to the wizard who’s now starting to get feeling in his leg and is crawling away. “These lowlives only respond to fear and galleons. And I happen to be lacking in the latter.”

Ben curled his fingers into the man’s hair who howled, slamming him into the wall. Ethren didn’t need to have smelt the distinct stink of alcohol and tobacco to know who this is, eyes widening as he approached. “....Mundungus?” 

Mundungus looked over, grinning warily as he spotted Ethren. “Ethren! My good friend, Whitecross! Let this crazy kid here know I ain’t done nothin wrong!”

“Debatable.”

“You know this dodgy bloke, Ethren?” Ben asked, lifting his wand again to the man’s neck. 

“Unfortunately. Mundungus is a thief I ran into while tracking down the Cursed Vault last year.”

"Quit sayin me name so loud, Whitecross! I don't want 'im to know I'm 'ere." Mundungus squirmed a bit and Ben curled his fingers tighter around his collar.

“What are you talking about? Who?  _ R?” _

"Trust me, kid. You don' want to know. THis one is dangerous, even compared to the lot 'round these parts." Mundungus smiled. He was missing several teeth and his breath smelled of whiskey. “But I suppose I could be persuaded into talkin'....for a price.”

A jet of green light shot forward from Ben’s wand, striking the stone only right by Mundungus’ head and he yelped, jumping. “All right, all right! I’m feelin’ generous. I’ll tell you everythin’ I know, free of charge.” A pained grimace. “Now would you...mind letting me go?”

Ben scowled and released Mundungus. He stumbled backwards, popping his collar up again as he nods his head. “Thanks.” 

Ethren and Ben had him backed into a corner. Ethren folded his arms over his chest. “Who did you piss off this time, Mundungus.”

“It wasn’t my fault this time!” The man insisted. “I saw that white robed wizard I saw last year! He speaks some language I can’t understand, I’ve been laying low ever since I spot him.”

A white robed wizard. Ethren hesitated. “...I remember hearing about that. Some wizard in white robes who dueled you last year from Madam Villanelle...”

Ben grit his teeth, leaning back against the wall as he twirled his wand around his fingers. “I don’t care in some wizard in white robes. All I care about is-”

“Rakepick. I know. But this white wizard might be our key.” Ethren rubbed his jaw thoughtfully, looking to Mundungus. “You mentioned before that they used incantations that you've never heard of.”

Mundungus nodded. "That's 'im! 'E was a dodgy character, an' that's comin' from me.”

“And so now this wizard has been poking around Knockturn again...” he was about to ask another question before Ben snorted, sneering at the wizard as he reclined lazily back against the wall.

“And so instead of confronting this wizard, you’ve been hiding until he leaves?”

"’Idin' out' sounds bad. I prefer to think of it as 'layin low' for me own self preservation."

“That’s what happens when you steal from wizards who can kick your ass,” Ethren murmured. 

“I wouldn' call it stealin', I'd call it.... 'relievin' 'im of the burden of 'is material possessions."

Ethren snorted. “You’re a saint, Mundungus.”

“Just doin me best. Now if you don’ mind, I’ve got to get back to ‘idin- I mean, layin’ low.” 

Ben stepped forward to stop him - when Ethren’s arm pushed out in front of him and he rolled his eyes. “Get out of here, Mundungus.”

The wizard didn’t need any further encouragement. He scampered off like the rat he is, disappearing and Ethren’s eyes drew over to Ben. “You're lucky it was just Mundungus you threatened. He’s basically useless.”

“Lucky,” Ben muttered. He ran his hand distractedly through his hair. “I didn’t learn anything about Rakepick or the Vaults. I wouldn’t call that lucky.”

...he looked tired. Bags under his eyes. Skin sallow. Distracted. Ethren’s eyes softened and he breathed, rubbing his head. “....I know you want to find her,” he said. “So do I. But...we’ve got to do this the right way. And that means not threatening dark wizards.” Exhausted. Ethren was about ready to pass out standing right there and he shook his head. “Do what you want, Ben. But what you’re doing - it’s not going to end well.”

He had a horrible time staying awake during school the next day.

Ethren was practically falling asleep during his palmistry class, face squashed into the desk as Chiara took his hand, running her fingers along the rivulets of his palm. He could barely hear her over the dull roar in his head. He had gotten no sleep that night. By the time he finally reached the common room after Knockturn it was morning. 

He’d give anything to go to sleep right about now.

In the midst of their lesson, and Chiara coming up with some bullshit dramatic prophecy to suit Trelawney’s shakespearean tastes, the door opened and a voice sounded. “Ethren Whitecross?”

McGonagall.

He peeled his face up, eye crusties still clinging to the corner of his eyes. “Here.”

“Professor Dumbledore would like to see you in his office.”

Dumbledore.

The effect was immediate. Every eye in the class turned to him. He was used to this by now. A sigh pushed past his lips as he slowly got to his feet. “Yes ma’am,” he muttered. Anything to get out of divination, even if it meant a potential scolding from the headmaster. He shoved his books into his bag and trudged out of the room towards the trap door. 

As they walked, Ethren caught up to McGonagall. She looked tired. “Am I in trouble again?”

“Not this time, Whitecross.” She frowned at him. “Though I am interested in why the Hogwarts’ floo network’s last known location was Knockturn Alley.”

“Dunno. Maybe Filch has a seedy second life we don’t know about.”

McGonagall gave him a sharp look, opening up the passage and gestured inside. “Dumbledore will be back shortly. He’s instructed for you to wait for him.” The door closed. He was alone. 

The great observatory rotated slowly in the room, books slowly floating off the shelves and relocating themselves. He could hear chatter from the portraits as he entered.  _ Whitecross...wonder how long he’ll be made to wait again...hopefully not another 8 hours, the poor lad... _

And towards the back...

“Hey there, Fawkes,” Ethren cooed, approaching the fiery bird. It lifted its crimson head, pushing its beak against Ethren’s fingers as he stroked it affectionately. It looked tired. Withered. Feathers were falling out. He resembled little more than a half plucked turkey. It could scarcely look at him, let alone stand. “Getting ready for another burn?”

The phoenix gave a cry that sounded like it was ripped between two bits of sandpaper. He could hear its breath wheezing in its chest. Ethren grimaced, sitting down beside the phoenix, fingers running down its feathers. “Don’t worry. I’m here.”

He stroked the bird soothingly as morning light streamed in through the window. When he felt the phoenix begin to burn under his fingers, he drew his hand away - just as it erupted into a column of flame, its body collapsing into ash and dust, the light reflecting in Ethren’s eyes. He waited only just a moment and reached into the ashes, scooping out the little chick. “Phoenixes really are such dramatic creatures,” he mutters, placing it in his lap. It curled into his pants and he scratched the side of its head. “Is the bursting into fire bit really necessary?”

“I’ve found the phoenix to be a fascinatingly flamboyant animal.”

Ethren turned to look over his shoulder. Albus Dumbledore was approaching, a twinkle in his eye. “I was hoping to be here during his Burning Day, but it seems he has the next best thing. He likes you quite a bit.”

“It’s always nice to have an immortal bird on your side,” Ethren replied, having taken to scratching the phoenix chick under his chin. “Why have you asked me here, sir? Have you found Rakepick?”

Dumbledore didn’t respond. He swept by Ethren, lowering himself stiffly down into his chair and relaxed against its wooden frame. “How have your classes been faring?”

His classes? Ethren frowned. “You brought me here to talk about my classes?”

“I brought you here to talk about you.”

He definitely wasn’t expecting that. Ethren blinked. “...me?”

Dumbledore poured a glass of tea, passing it over to Ethren. He didn’t touch it as he watched Dumbledore with a frown. “The last we talked, you’d just returned from the last Cursed Vault. You were still processing Rakepick’s betrayal, and your reunion with your brother.”

His brother.

Ethren’s mood fell almost immediately. His eyes darkened and he settled back in his seat. “....So what. Are you my therapist now?”

Tense. His entire body was tight like a bowstring drawn back to the ear. He didn’t meet Dumbledore’s eyes who watched him carefully, sipping his tea. “No. Not your therapist. But hopefully someone that you can confide in.” 

“Confide in,” Ethren muttered. Baby Fawkes was nipping at his fingers idly. “All right. How’s this for confiding. My mom is losing her mind. My brother is gone chasing down a murderous syndicate of wizards. Rakepick tortured my girlfriend and got away with it. Another cursed vault is turning students into statues. Trelawney gave me a prophecy that apparently people are going to die. And, oh, can’t  _ fucking  _ forget!” He slammed his hand down. “I only have three years to find a cure for my malediction before I die and the adults of this school are too  _ incompetent  _ to deal with the vaults that I have to and sacrifice my precious little time fixing  _ your mistakes!”  _ His voice grew steadily louder, his shouts echoing into silence as he stood, shoulders heaving, one hand holding Fawkes while the other pressed palm down into the desk. 

Dumbledore kept his eyes on Ethren for a long while. Even Fawkes’ little baby squeaks had been stifled into silence. “You have experienced tragedies that would be hard for anyone to cope with," he finally said, voice calm as he reached over. His withered hand rested over Ethren's. "Let alone someone your age." 

Someone his age. Ethren grimaced, collapsing into his chair tiredly. “...yeah, well suffering doesn’t really seem to discriminate.” He pauses. “Sorry for uh. Blasting your office into pieces last year.”

“It’s no worry, Ethren. I don’t believe it’ll be the last time my office will be vandalized.”

Ethren stood up. Setting Fawkes down on his perch he made his way towards the window leading outside and leaned against it, forearm between his head and the glass. Outside, he could see the first years shooting about on their brooms. Could see students studying through windows in the tower. The sun poking up over the horizon. “....my friends aren’t doing well,” he finally muttered. “Merula is hellbent on vengeance. And... so am I. Ben’s turned to aggression. Charlie is isolating himself. The only one who seems to have themselves together is Bill, but he’s gone. And I feel like I can’t...talk to them.” He glanced over to Dumbledore. His eyes were tinted red. “I’m hurting,” he hisses hoarsely. “But...so are they. What right do I have to press  _ my  _ problems on them when they already have their own? Isn’t that selfish?”

Dumbledore stood beside Ethren, the two peering out over the Hogwarts grounds as the Professor considered. “We try so hard to hide everything we're feeling from those who need to know the most,” he said. “People bottle their emotions, as if it's wrong to have natural reactions to life.” Dumbledore paused. “I don’t think your friends regret helping you, Ethren.”

“I do. If I’d done it alone, maybe they’d...” he grit his teeth, knocking his head against the window.

“You would have died.”

“Then the curse would finally be over.”

“Ethren.” His hand rested on Ethren’s shoulder. For once, he didn’t shy away. “It sounds like many of your friends are struggling with the events that transpired last year as well. Perhaps...confiding in them will allow you to help each other.”

“Struggling is an understatement,” Ethren muttered. “Ben was even threatening Mundungus Fletcher into telling us about a wizard in white robes he had a run-in with. Had his wand up to him like he was holding him at gunpoint.”

Dumbledore however, stilled. “...a white robed wizard, you say?”

“Yeah.” Ethren sighed, twisting around to lean his back against the window, mindlessly thumbing his wand on the holster at his hip. “Fletcher said he was the really dangerous sort. Had him worried. Then again, that piece of crap is threatened by anyone.” No response. Ethren looked over. “Professor Dumbledore?”

Dumbledore was staring thoughtfully out the window, twisting the end of his beard. “I am reminded of something I learned about the Mahoutokoro School of Magic,” he said. “When a student there breaks the Japanese wizard's code or practises Dark Magic, they are expelled and their robes turn white.”

“So you think the wizard Fletcher saw might be a Dark wizard from Japan..?”

“What I  _ think,”  _ Dumbledore said, brow arching as he turned to regard Ethren closely. “Is that you should leave this to professors.”

“Because that always yields great results.”

“Your time is better spent studying your malediction and helping your friends.” His features softened. “Let your friends carry you through this storm, Ethren. You will need them before the end.”


	5. The DADA Resurgence

“Ethren, table 5, go take care of it, sweetie.”

Ethren, who was in the middle of balancing a tower of plates one each hand swiveled around to get a look at the table in question - where a new family has just sat down and he nodded his head towards Madam Rosmerta. “You got it. One second.” 

He peeled into the kitchen, dropping down the dishes, swiped up his notepad and was off in an instant. It was busy. It was rowdy. It was loud. There were kids screaming and running between the tables, a glass shattering as it was knocked off the ground, people talking over each other. And Ethren, who was one of two servers, was worked to the bone, with never a moment to even breathe. 

It was perfect. Everything Ethren needed to distract himself and pretend like all of his problems didn’t exist. 

After taking the family’s order, he stooped down, drawing his wand to clean up the mess of glass - when he spotted someone. Towards the back of the inn. He straightened, squinting... and there he was. Charlie Weasley, brooding in the corner booth with his face pressed into his arms, a couple emptied glasses of Butterbeer beside him.

Uh oh. This didn’t look good.  _ “Scourgify,”  _ Ethren murmured at the glass, and with a flick of his wand the shattered pieces swept themselves into a dustpan which he dumped in a nearby trash. “Madam Rosmerta!” He called over to the woman. “Could I take a quick break?”

She sighed with exasperation. “Yes, a  _ short  _ one, Ethren. This is our rush hour!”

He nodded in confirmation - and picked his way over towards Charlie, brow arched as he folded his arms. 

“Already, Weasley? It’s not even 5 yet.”

Charlie looked up tiredly. There were great bags under his eyes as he regarded Ethren jadedly. He rubbed his eyes and sighed, sitting up. “It’s five o’clock somewhere,” he muttered, sitting back. “Aren’t you working?”

“Taking a break.” Ethren kicked back next to him, swiping Charlie’s drink as he downed half of it. “I actually wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Talk about something, or ask for my help with something?”

Ethren stared and flushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “No....no, just..just talk. I thought you would have wanted to hear about my meeting with Torvus, about the prophecy?”

Charlie couldn’t look any less interested, his elbows on the table and head in his hands as he watched Ethren tiredly. “Okay.”

“...well, it was a pain in the ass to get into the centaur camp in the first place. They had me join them on this hunt where we brought down a rampant chimera and I almost died. Then I was able to talk to a centaur in the camp named Firenze. They said I'm one of the few people to ever see it. And this centaur named Firenze offered to help me with the prophecy.” Ethren tipped back in his chair thoughtfully. “With any luck...it’ll bring us that much closer to the next cursed vault and breaking the Statue Curse.”

“That’s nice.” Charlie was swishing his drink around idly, not meeting Ethren’s eyes. 

Ethren glanced up, a spark of irritation rushing through him. “Yeah, it is  _ nice.  _ This could help me save all the students that are petrified.” His lips curled back into a snarl. “It could help me find Rakepick. I thought  _ you  _ of all people would give a damn.”

Charlie sighed, pushing up and rubbed his temples. “...I do give a damn. I’m..sorry. Just been distracted.”

“About last year.” Charlie didn’t answer for a long moment. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Just… know that I get it.”

“No...I know you do.” He stared into his drink as he swished it about. He looked almost pale, even his freckles seeming subdued under the weight of stress. “...I should have been happy,” he finally muttered. “To see a Hungarian Horntail...but...all I can think of is Rakepick. The way she used us.” Charlie took a sharp breath, slamming his cup down onto the table. “The way she attacked us. The way she just… used an Unforgivable Curse on Merula like it was  _ nothing. _ Trying to kill us, laughing all the while.” He drew his eyes up to Ethren’s. They were tinted red and he pushes his sleeve across his eyes. “She was our  _ Professor,  _ Ethren. She was supposed to be someone we could trust. And seeing her just…throw us away like that...”

“You’ve lost trust in people.”

Charlie gave a glum nod. A tired chuckle pushed out from between his lips. “I’m starting to think I’m better off surrounded by dragons than people. They don’t betray you...they don’t have secrets, and ulterior motives...”

“They just try to burn you alive and eat you.”

“At least that’s something I can expect from them.”

Ethren exhaled and reached across the table, clasping his warm hand over Charlie’s. “Charlie. Rakepick is a crazy, evil bitch. She won’t get away with what she’s done.”

“And that’s another thing that worries me.” Charlie’s amber eyes searched Ethren’s face. “...you and Merula have become so hateful. Finding Rakepick...finding the vaults...it seems to be all you two care about.”

“To be fair, I care about a lot of things. They all just happen to have one thing in common - the Vaults.”

“You’re putting yourself in danger.” Charlie grit his teeth. “Every year here, there’s just been...nothing but danger..maybe it would be better if I just..if I just...”

Ethren arched a brow. “If you just what?”

“...if I just dropped out and moved to Romania.”

Ethren wrenched forward in his chair.  _ “What?!”  _ He demanded. Several patrons glanced over and he flushed, lowering his voice a couple notches. “You can’t just...drop out and move to Romania,” he hissed. “You’re a prefect...you’re the Gryffindor Seeker, you have your brothers here that need you and  _ depend  _ on you.”

_ “And what if I’m betrayed again?”  _ Charlie hissed. “Ethren, people are different from dragons. Dragons... you  _ know  _ what to expect. Danger and aggression is in their nature, it’s in their blood. But humans...?” He looked out the window. He almost seemed to hug himself. “...humans are worse.”

“I know they’re worse. But you can’t just run away because of what ifs.”

“And what about you?” Charlie demanded. “If you knew where your brother was  _ right now  _ are you telling me that you wouldn’t run away and find him?”

“Don’t make this about Jaxson.”

Charlie slumped back and rubbed his face. “...this would just be so much easier with Bill around,” he muttered, grief strangling his voice. “..I’m not going to leave. I love my friends...I love my family, even if I’m not the biggest fan of people but..”

“You miss him.”

Charlie nodded and Ethren sighed. “...I do, too. He...we became really close while we were both studying under Rakepick.” He paused. “I could always count on him. When things were rough, when things were hard, and...” he glanced up, scowling. “...why are you smiling.”

Charlie was leaning against the table, smirking at Ethren. “Well,” he purred. “It seems you haven’t heard the news.”

“What news?”

“Bill is coming back to Hogwarts. Tonight.”

Ethren couldn’t focus all day. Not while listening to Binn’s loathsome lecture on the uprising of Elfric the Eager. Not through learning how to turn teacups into gerbils. He was called out by his Professors multiple times for the incessant bouncing of his knee, but he couldn’t help it. Bill! He was coming back. One of his best friends. 

They were to meet Bill in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom at midnight. And so they waited, sprawled out across the Gryffindor common room, eyes peeled and locked on the clock. 

“What do you think it is Bill wants?” Rowan asked, glancing over from his books. Ever since he’d heard Bill was coming back, he wouldn’t stop blushing.

His crush on Bill Weasley was not a subtle one. 

“I’m not sure,” Ethren said honestly, listening to the sound of Jae counting coins on the table in front of the fire. “But whatever it is, it must be important. He wouldn’t come back and ask everyone to join him just for a visit.”

“Do we  _ have  _ to go?” Jae asked with a sigh, glancing over. “Because if this is about Vault stuff, I really don’t care.”

“Well you  _ should  _ care,” Ben snapped irritably, looking up while he practiced dueling poses. “The Vaults affect us all. But I guess you  _ would  _ be more content prowling around Knockturn Alley.”

“Seems like that’s something we have in common, blondie,” Jae purred with a wink. Ben’s face turned red and he stalked forward - when the door burst open. Charlie. He looked flustered and was grinning. “Come on!” He hissed. “It’s time.”

Moonlight came in through the windows as the Gryffindor boys slipped into the DADA classroom. Everyone was there. Penny, Barnaby, Badeea. The room was filled with curious whispers and murmurs, and as Ethren pushed into the classroom...he paused, giving the room a once over.

He couldn’t help it.

The chill down his spine.

He recalled the hours upon hours he’d spent here, training with Merula and Bill. The shadows of moonlight on the dragon skeleton hanging above reflected in a horrific silhouette upon the ground. He stopped, staring up at the small platform leading into the back room. Hours upon hours of training under Rakepick.... Who stood right in that spot.

He felt a hand smooth across his back, lips pressing under his ear. “Don’t worry. I thought of her, too.” 

Ethren glanced over, and relief rose in him until he couldn’t breathe. Merula. She was leaning against his frame, twining her fingers with his and he exhaled, drawing the girl into his chest as they both relaxed back against a nearby desk. “Can’t help but think of her every time you come in,” he muttered and she nodded, splaying herself out lazily across his lap.

“Weasley better have a good reason as to why he’s dragging us all out of our beds in the middle of the night.”

Ethren grinned. “Well that’s a bit hypocritical,” he purred. He kissed up her neck. “Considering how often we sneak out.”

“Sneaking out to screw around with your boyfriend is a lot different than sneaking out into the classroom of your murderous professor for some top secret meeting.”

“That’s fair.” He glanced up..and his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. Bill. He was towards the back, talking to Rowan, Charlie and Ben. He kissed her cheek. “I’ll be right back.”

He pushed his way through the crowd. Bill met Ethren’s eyes and he didn’t even have a chance to call out his name before Ethren was sprinting and leaping into the arms of his friend. Bill staggered back a step and laughed. “Damn! Missed me that much, Whitecross?”

“Shut up,” Ethren muttered into his friend’s shirt, fingers curling in. He felt Bill’s arms come around him. Damn it felt good. To just be hugged by someone he could trust. It almost felt like...being hugged by...

No. Bill was better.

Bill didn’t just disappear.

He felt the rumble of Bill’s chuckle. “It’s good to see you again. Pretty rude of you to just disappear mid-party last year. I wasn’t even able to say a proper goodbye.”

“Tell that to Moody.” Ethren drew away and Bill arched a brow, folding his arms.

“And speaking of Moody, what did you two even-”

“Don’t bother,” Charlie snorted. “We’ve all tried to drill him for information and he’s kept quiet.”

Ethren shrugged. “Sorry, fellas. I’m a man of my word.”

“Well, secrets and all..I missed you.” Bill ground his fist into Ethren’s hair and the boy squirmed out of the man’s grasp, pushing it back into place. “And what about you, were you  _ pining  _ for me the whole time I was gone?”

“Gone?” Ethren purred. “I barely even noticed.”

Bill grasped at his heart. “Ethren...and to think, I thought we were close.”

“Sorry, Charlie’s my new best Weasley friend now.”

“Along with all of the baggage that comes with it, too,” Charlie muttered with a teasing roll of his eyes. “Curses, murderous wizards and all...”

At that, Bill’s eyes darkened. “The statue curse,” he said. “I’d heard about that at Gringotts...how bad has it gotten so far?”

“A student’s been petrified...just one so far but..”

“There’s bound to be more,” Bill said grimly. “Seems like Hogwarts hasn’t become any less dangerous. But..” he winked. “That’s why I’m here. And you don’t seem....too surprised about that...” he glowers an accusing glare towards his brother who gives a lazy shrug.

“Consider that payback for spoiling your own surprise party.”

“Bill, why  _ are  _ you here?” Ethren asked. The question rippled out to the rest of the students who quieted and glanced over curiously. It seemed to be the question on everyone’s mind and Bill grasped Ethren’s shoulder, giving a wink.

“You’re about to find out.” Bill whistled. “All right, gather round!”

Everyone shuffled ahead, standing shoulder to shoulder before Bill who looked out over his friends. He could feel Chiara and Talbott come up beside him, and Merula lean against his frame as they watched Bill who tugged on his dark coat. “Thank you for coming,” he began. “You’re all probably wondering why I called you here. According to Charlie - your DADA professor this year is...particularly useless.”

Diego snorted, pushing back his hair as he reclined against a nearby table. “Useless is an understatement. The bloke keeps falling asleep mid class, he’s worse than Binns!”

“Well,” Bill purred. “I’ve had some down time between my Gringotts curse-breaking missions, so I figured...” His eyes lit up with excitement. “I’d stop by Hogwarts every once in a while to teach you new spells I’ve learned!”

Silence washed over the room. Silence that was immediately disrupted by a clamor of voices of twenty people talking at once. 

“Are you going to be our new Professor?” 

“Will you be here every day?”

“Can you give private lessons?!” Rowan squeaked. 

Ethren...couldn’t help the way his heart banged excitedly against his chest. Bill was flushing as he put out his hands, motioning for silence. "This is all just informal," he stammered. "I'm not replacing your professor by any means, I'm just tutoring. I've already received permission from Professor Dumbledore to use this classroom after classes are done with for the day."

Ethren stepped forward. His sharp eyes were locked on Bill. “We appreciate it,” he said. “But why come back? After everything that happened last night...”

The chatter dropped into an uncomfortable quiet. All eyes were locked on Bill whose lips were set in a grim line. “...if the events of last year have taught me anything," he said, voice barely stirring the silence. “It’s the importance of being able to protect yourself. If and when Rakepick and R returns, I want to make sure you're all as prepared as you can possibly be."

“So you’re saying we should be expecting a fight?” Talbott asked, brows furrowing together and Bill nodded.

“That’s right.” There were a couple shifts from the students as a wave of nervousness washed over them. Bill’s shoulders sagged and he took a step forward. “No one's forcing you to do this. You can leave now if you're not interested. But...” he paused. “I think there’s a lot I can teach you if you decide to stay.”

For a long moment... no one answered. The choice was like a heavy cloud that hovered over them. To leave meant being unprepared for what was to come. But to stay....to stay was a guarantee of using this knowledge in the future. A future that surely included more battles to come. 

Penny was the first to step forward. Her hair was tied up in a high ponytail, her eyes tired and she gave Bill a firm nod. “If it helps me protect my sister and my friends, count me in.”

“Me too!” Barnaby piped up.

“Dark wizards and witches too often think they can do whatever the hell they want,” Talbott said coldly, moving forward. His crimson eyes were narrowed to slits. “Count us in.” Chiara nodded form his side.

“Anything if it means getting back at that bitch,” Merula muttered.

Ethren kissed her cheek gently before he walked beside Talbott, clasping his friend on the shoulder. “What we’re trying to say, Bill....is that we’re in.”

Bill was absolutely beaming, grinning widely as he folded his arms. “Brilliant! And we start our first lesson tonight. How to create a Cursed Barrier.”

“So like...protego?”

“Not quite. I picked this spell up from a Dark wizard I fought during one of my Gringotts assignments. It’s a spell that they designed to keep anyone without a dark mark out of a specified area. They used it for their camps and bases and whatnot. But instead of keeping anyone  _ without  _ a dark mark out...” he grinned. "My modified version prevents anyone  _ with _ a Dark Mark from getting in.”

Ethren’s eyes widened. “Impressive,” he muttered. 

“Everyone, watch closely while I demonstrate.”

He cast an example, and set everyone to practicing. A flick and a swish of one’s wand, and a silvery blue shield is erected in front of you. Talbott and Ethren were paired off helping one another with their forms, with Chiara and Merula practicing a little ways away. 

“Hopefully we never have to use this,” Chiara said, throwing up her shield and Merula rolled her eyes.

“Yes, this would have been  _ exceedingly  _ helpful during the First War, but it’s not really too practical to use now. Voldemort is gone.” 

A couple students glanced over with a scowl at her blatant use of You-Know-Who’s name. She didn’t seem to mind, or care. Ethren didn’t particularly care either as he drew up his own shield.

“Well, clearly Bill has had run-ins with Death Mark bearing wizards before. So some must have escaped Azkaban.”

“For now,” Talbott snarls, flicking his wand. “When I’m an auror, I’ll hunt down everyone of those bastards...make sure all of their souls are sucked right out of their lungs.”

Ethren glanced over. Merula had gone quiet as she practiced, features paled a bit and he swiftly changed the topic. “Bill,” he called over to the young man who strolled up to the four. “Do you often run into Dark Wizards during your missions?”

Bill grimaced. “Too often. We usually disembark to reclaim artifacts, and artifacts have value. Think of them as...dark wizard Tomb Raiders.”

“Like Indiana Jones!” Ben squeaked. At the curious glances, he flushed and went back to practicing. 

Ethren exhaled, casting the spell and Bill nodded encouragingly. “Perfect, Ethren!”

“How can you tell? No one here has the Dark Mark.”

“You sure about that?” Diego purred, glancing over his shoulder towards the pair with a wolfish grin. “Maybe you should check Merula’s arm.”

Red hot anger seethed through Ethren. Merula grit her teeth. “Take that back.” 

“Or,” Diego continued. “Maybe Barnaby can ask his daddy to come over for us to practice on.” He pushed his shoulder past Barnaby’s as he walked by and Barnaby flushed, rubbing his shoulder.

“I...I don’t think he’d come here just because we asked.”

“No? That’s a shame. What about you, Snyde? Think your parents would give us a visit?”

Merula’s jaw slid forward. She stalked towards Diego - when suddenly Ethren was between the two of them, eyes narrowed to slits on Caplan. “I think,” he said, voice low. “You should shut your mouth before you lose some teeth.”

Diego’s golden eyes roamed down Ethren’s small stature and he snorted. “Defending your Death Eater girlfriend?”

There was electricity in the air. The two were standing toe to toe, magic sparking at the tips of their wands, cold fury coiling in his stomach. 

Bill grasped Ethren’s shoulder, eyes locked on Diego. “We’re here to defend ourselves against  _ future  _ combatants. Not our peers. While there isn’t anyone available for us to test the spell on, I figured I can at the very least teach you all the stance. But...” he glanced out the window. “It’s late. We should probably stop practicing for now and call it a night.”

They all began to disperse. Excited chatter lifted up off the students as they gathered their bags, and Ethren had just swung his over his shoulder when Bill called him over. “Ethren? Can I talk to you for a second?”

He waved for Merula, Chiara and Talbott to go on ahead of him as he walked back to Bill. “What’s up?”

Bill exhaled, sagging back against a chair. “...I did what you asked. I asked my fellow curse breakers about how to break maledictions. And did some research myself.”

Ethren’s heart jumped in his chest. “And?” He demanded, stepping forward. “What did you find?”

“Nothing useful. Maledictions are....incredibly difficult to break.”

Ethren’s shoulders sank. The excited hammering in his chest tightened until it felt like he was being choked. “...nothing?”

Bill grimaced. “You have to understand, Ethren. These curses are evolved to feed off of every death that they cause. They're not easy to break. But...”

“But?”

The curse-breaker hesitated. “But....there may be a ritual that-”

_ “Bill! Ethren!” _

Fred and George were shoving into the room, panting, hands on their knees. Irritation flashed through Ethren who bared his teeth and spun around. “What are you doing out of bed?”

“We were coming to tell  _ you  _ something important, dickhead!” Fred said hotly. 

_ “Fred,” _ Bill scolded before Fred waved him off. 

The brothers looked at one another. George nodded and exhaled. “...we think we might have seen Ethren’s brother on the school grounds.”

Silence. Ethren’s head was reeling back in shock. “What.”

“He... he looked a lot like you! And matched the description!”

“Auburn brown hair, tied back, teal eyes, clothes that looked like they were sewn up in a trash can?”

“Yeah, exactly!”

“Fred, George,” Bill hissed, stepping forward, separating the boys from Ethren with a scowl. “If this is one of your tricks...” 

“No, it’s not, why would we lie?!”

Ethren couldn't move. He could barely breathe.  _ Jaxson was here.  _ He hadn’t seen Jaxson since the portrait vault...when Jaxson cursed him into unconsciousness before running. His fingers curled into fists. “Where did he go.”

His voice was low, and cold. The twins looked over to him, flushed and Fred rubbed the back of his neck. “S-sorry, Ethren...by the time we caught up with him, he was gone.”

“You can’t apparate on school grounds, though,” Bill murmured, brows pushed together. 

“Which means he’s close.” Ethren was already marching towards the door and Bill grabbed Ethren’s arm, fingers clenching into his sleeve.

“Ethren, wait. If your brother is here...you should be careful.”

“Why.”

Bill gave pause. Like he was choosing his words carefully. “...I just..worry about him with you. I don’t think he’s...safe.”

“You and I both.” Ethren tugged his arm away. “I’m going to find him. And I’m going to talk to him.”

“And then?”

Ethren’s hand was on the door. He glanced back lazily, eyes locking on Bill’s. “I’m going to kick his ass.” He pushed through the door, leaving the Weasleys behind. 


End file.
